


Where The Heart Takes You

by Jacie



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient Rome, Horses, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scotland, Slavery, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacie/pseuds/Jacie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historical AU in which Gibbs and McGee are Farmers/Soldiers from Scotland, while DiNozzo is a Roman soldier found wounded on the battlefield, nursed back to health and sold (to Gibbs) as a slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gibbs returns from the battlefield with sad news.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: McGee is 16-18 in this and has sexual contact with other characters.  
> A/N: This is my rather self-indulgent AU. The characters are from NCIS, but in this historical AU, they are in ancient Scotland around 1000AD give or take around 500 years. Although I'm no historian or expert I've tried to use things from the appropriate era, except for the language, of course. I've also taken a few liberties as far as the battles mentioned, as in, there were certainly plenty of battles to be had back then, but the fighting I have referenced is not necessarily correct in the sense of actual time (i.e. there is mention of Gibbs fighting against the Spaniards and the English, but I couldn't tell you if or with whom those two counties were battling within a certain time frame).

Gibbs rarely had the luxury of a horse to ride, let alone having a string of extra horses at hand. They were, of course, won in battle. As he rode the lead horse, he glanced back to the second, its saddle packed with Gibbs’ gear, then on to the third horse which carried the gear of a fallen fellow soldier, Donald. He was making a trip he knew he must make, although he dreaded the words he would have to speak when he arrived at his destination.

Words tumbled through his mind as he rode. He still had several miles to go before he reached Donald’s farm. Gibbs took in a deep breath and kept an eye on the sun as it journeyed across the sky. After picking through his chosen words, he worked them into a sentence, something he hoped would explain and comfort, then he repeated them in his head.

Gibbs rode through the night, pushing the tired horses to their limit. He had no thought of his own hunger or weariness. Every few hours he allowed a short break for the horses to graze while he sipped at his mead and remembered his friend and how he failed to save him during battle.

It was late morning the following day when he approached Donald’s homestead. A thin column of smoke billowed from the chimney. Gibbs sniffed the air, attempting to identify any cooking odors. Using a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the sweat and dirt from his face. Gibbs’ feet had hardly touched the ground when a red haired woman rushed out of the house.

“I heard the horses,” she said, as she clutched her skirt with one and hand shaded her eyes with the other. “Where’s Donald? Jethro?”

Gibbs avoided her eyes for a moment and bowed his head. “Viv, I don’t know what to say. It happened so quickly. During battle.”

“No! Jethro, no. Tell me he’s not dead,” she demanded, shaking her head in disbelief.

“We took a lot of casualties. He saved lives. He didn’t suffer much. He wanted me to give you this.” Gibbs dug out a small folded cloth from his pocket and opened the embroidered handkerchief colored with dried blood. “His last words were of his love for you,” he said as he pressed the cloth into Viv’s trembling hand.

Tears welled in her eyes as she fully realized her loss.

“I want you to take three of the horses. Work them or sell them. I have no need for all of them and I want you to have them. I’d be honored if you would accept them.”

Viv slowly walked around the horse who carried her husband’s battle gear. She placed her hand on the hilt of his sword and she wept, pressing her face against the horse’s shoulder until Gibbs stepped to her side and embraced her.

“How?” she asked as she sobbed.

“I tried to help him. The fighting was thick. We were outnumbered. They surrounded us, attacking from both sides. He fought well, but there were just too many of them.”

Viv covered her eyes with her hands and wept against Gibbs’ shoulder. “I know you did everything you could, Jethro. Donald thought the world of you. It’s hard to believe he’s never coming home. That I will never see him again. It doesn’t seem real,” she said as she clutched the wadded cloth to her breast.

“He fought to save your home. He wanted your children to grow up here on your family farm. In peace.”

Behind Viv, Gibbs noticed the door of the cottage standing ajar, revealing the faces of her two children in the doorway. He waved for them to come out.

“Where’s papa?” asked the girl, her brother standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“Papa’s not coming back, is he?” asked the boy.

Gibbs swallowed hard. “I wish I had better news for you.”

Pushing away from Gibbs, Viv embraced her children. Her teenaged son stood taller than she did, and her ten year old daughter was catching up quickly. “Papa fought for what he thought was right. There were just too many. Too many against him.”

The young girl started crying, so Viv held her tight as she looked to her son.

“It is my duty to take his place,” the boy said firmly. Turning to Gibbs, he added, “I’m sixteen now. A man. Papa said he would take me the next time. This time.”

Gibbs rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Your mother needs you here.”

“No, he’s right. You said yourself that our troops are outnumbered. He is of rightful age to fight. Take him with you. Please.”

“Viv, you need him here to work the farm.”

“He’s needed more out in the battlefield. You are the only person who I trust to look out for him. Please, Gibbs. Sarah and I don’t eat much. We’ll get by. We’ll be fine. Timothy, go and get your things.”

“Viv, it’s not a good idea. He could be killed.”

“He’s been trained. The lads train in warfare at the village. He’s ready to defend his land. Donald was planning to take him when he turned sixteen.”

“At least take the horses. Please? The large chestnut at the end, he’s the gentlest of the bunch and getting too old for war. Plowing your fields would be just the thing for him, I think. Take any of the others. Sell them in town if you have no use for them.”

Viv tightly clutched the handkerchief Gibbs had returned, and chewed her lower lip. “Timothy can take one into battle with you. I’ll take the chestnut and that small bay. Perhaps Sarah and I can take him into town to exchange for crops.”

“Sarah could ride him to school in town,” suggested Timothy, smiling at his sister.

“Your mother needs her here to help on the farm,” said Gibbs as he mounted his horse. “If you’re planning on coming with me, then you better get moving.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Don’t call me, Sir. I’ve not been knighted.”

“Yes, Gibbs. I’ll just go get my things now. After I. Can I put the horses in the paddock for my mother?”

“Do it quickly. The day is fading fast. I’ve got a lot of ground I want to cover yet before evening.”

Timothy nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled to untie the last two horses and lead them over to the empty paddock. It had been a while since they’d had a plow horse to work the fields. Timothy glanced down at his hands that were calloused from the work he’d done over the years. At least now his mother would have a strong horse to help with the work. It made leaving a little easier for Timothy.

After a quick trip through the cottage, Timothy ran outside, and hugged his mother and sister before mounting the horse Gibbs pointed him toward. “I’ll make you proud,” he called as they began riding away.

Gibbs rode in front, leading his pack horse, while Timothy brought up the rear. He’d known Gibbs as a friend of his father’s, but had never felt terribly comfortable conversing with the man. Before, he had always felt like a child. Now that his father was gone, he was the man of the McGee clan.

Gibbs skirted the village, taking a ridge where he could glance down on the village without riding directly through it. It would only serve to bring questions and complications his way and those were things he could do without for now. 

On the other side of town the pair rode another two hours before Gibbs turned his horse at a trail that led to a stone cottage. Like the McGee cottage, this one had smoke escaping from the chimney. Before they’d made it all the way to the small house, they could hear a voice wavering on the breeze that blew through an open window.

“Ducky!” Gibbs called as he dismounted.

The elderly gentleman pushed his door open to greet his guests. “Jethro! Home from the battlefields, I see. And young Timothy, what brings you out today?”

Gibbs was busy pulling things off of the pack horse, then led the horse over to Ducky. “A gift.”

“Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!” came a high pitched squeal as Abby rushed from the cottage to threw her arms around Gibbs’ neck. 

Gibbs planted a kiss on her cheek. “Stop scaring the horse, Abs.”

“Gibbs! He’s beautiful.”

“Take him.”

Abby took the reins from Gibbs and walked the dark bay horse toward the barn. “I think I will call you Jethro,” she said as she patted the horse’s neck. “You and I are going to be the best of friends. I just know it. I love animals and I am going to take really good care of you.”

Ducky stepped closer to Gibbs and lowered his voice. “Donald?”

“He didn’t make it, Duck. We were so outnumbered on the battlefield. Viv sent the boy along to take his place. Now I have him to worry about.”

“Timothy’s a good lad, Jethro.”

“How are things going here?”

“Same as always, except for worrying about those of you who went to fight the cause and those who return gravely injured, ill or not at all.”

“Ah, Duck. Everyone knows war is a nasty business. You hope you won’t lose men, but you know you will.”

“Abigail continues to flourish in her studies, but she misses you terribly. She talks a lot about the day you will return to stay.”

“I’m not a homesteading man, Duck. That’s why I brought her to you.”

“She is a joy to have around. Smart as can be and sweet, too. It’s a wonder after what she’s been through. I’m so glad you brought her to stay with me, Jethro. She has been wonderful company, especially since mother passed.”

Abby nearly bounced up the path, stopping near Timothy’s horse and smiling up at him. “Where are you going, McGee?”

Timothy stumbled over his words, “I’m, um, going into battle. With, um, Gibbs.”

Abby grasped the horse’s reins. “Really? Timmy, are you even old enough?”

“I know how to fight.”

“Yeah? Get down off that horse and let’s have a rematch! We’ll see just how good your skills really are.”

“Abby, I’m a man now. Sixteen. I am not fighting a girl.”

“Because you know you’ll lose. Again!” Abby said cheerily as she turned and grabbed hold of Gibbs’ arms. “How long are you staying this time, Gibbs?”

“Just overnight, Abs. I have to get back to the fighting.”

Dropping his arm, Abby looked suitably shocked. “Overnight? Why’d you ride all this way to stay just one night?”

Gibbs pulled the saddle off of his horse and nodded to McGee. “I didn’t. Donald was killed in battle. I came to let his family know.”

“Oh, McGee! Your father! I am so sorry!” Abby said, rushing over to wrap her arms around him. “I can’t believe it. And now you’re going to take his place?”

“Yes. It’s time. It’s my duty.”

“You stay close to Gibbs. He has mad fighting skills. He will protect you.”

“I know. My father always told stories about how good Gibbs is in battle. How Gibbs had saved his life so many times. He said he was lucky to ride with a man of his caliber.”

“Everyone’s luck runs out eventually,” she said softly.

“Hey,” Gibbs called. “Put the horses in the stables and feed them then come in for supper.”

“I’ll have to add a bit to the stew pot, but I think we can stretch it out to feed four,” noted Ducky as he headed inside. 

Gibbs sat at the wooden table he had carved long ago and rubbed his hand across the tabletop while Ducky rummaged through his vegetable bins and sliced up a few more potatoes, carrots, parsnips and onions. After adding them to his stew pot, he stirred it slowly. “We baked bread this very morning,” he said. “Plenty of that.”

“Got any meat in that stuff?”

“Actually, yes. I managed to capture a hare yesterday. One of the snares you built for me. Best snares in the whole country.”

Gibbs smiled proudly.

“Now, let me take a look at your wounds.”

“Ducky, who said I was wounded?”

“Who knows you better than I do? I can tell by the way you sat on that horse. And by how you’re breathing. Take your shirt off.”

Despite grumbling a bit, Gibbs did as he was told. “It’s all healed up.”

“I don’t see any infection, but I’d hardly call those wounds healed. Let me get my kit. I dare say a couple of those should have been stitched. No wonder you’re so pale. How you managed to stay on that horse all this way, I will never know.”

“I put a knee on either side of his belly and sat up straight. It’s not that hard of an accomplishment.”

“For you, perhaps. My knees have taken to complaining these days, when they are asked to bend around the belly of a steed.”

“I imagine it’s been a few years since you’ve had your knees around anything as wide as the belly of a horse, my friend.”

“On the contrary, Jethro. I have been known to ride on the hunt.”

Gibbs chuckled until Ducky’s needle pierced his skin. “Ouch!”

“That can’t have hurt any more than the original wound you received.”

“I wasn’t expecting it just then.”

“My needle or the sword that pierced your skin in battle?”

“Either one!”

“Quiet down and I may share some of my ale with you later.”

After spending the evening chatting with Ducky, while McGee happily followed Abby’s every move, the four said their goodnights, with Ducky and Abby retiring to their respective bedrooms as Gibbs and McGee spread their bedding before the hearth. For hours, Gibbs lay awake, staring at the ceiling and accepting his new responsibilities.

“I will watch over your boy,” he whispered, his eyes raised upwards.

A couple feet away, McGee slumbered restlessly. Gibbs smiled as he remembered the dreams that he had the nights before he faced his first battle. 

“He will be safe with me,” Gibbs promised as he rolled over, closing his eyes.

Waking early the next morning, Gibbs made certain the horses were tacked up and ready for the journey. The sun had barely risen when he woke McGee and urged him to eat the breakfast of breads, cheese and eggs that Ducky had prepared. 

Abby awoke later, but made sure she was there to see them off. “You be safe!” she said to Gibbs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him until he kissed her check.

“Aren’t I always?” Gibbs asked with a smile.

Ducky gave Gibbs a hearty hug, then reached out his hand to McGee. “You stay close to Gibbs,” he advised the boy.

McGee held his hand out to Abby as well, but she pushed on by and hugged him with such enthusiasm that he felt it to the core. He briefly thought about bestowing a kiss on her cheek as Gibbs had, but found that he lacked the courage. Maybe after he returned victorious from his first battle, then he may earn the right to kiss a maiden and might have acquired the courage to actually do so.

“Oh, McGee. You better come back in one piece.”

“I’ll do my best,” he told her.

After the pair had mounted their steeds, Ducky put an arm around Abby’s shoulder and together they watched until Gibbs and McGee disappeared into the distance.

They had ridden for half the day when Gibbs held up his hand, signaling for McGee to bring his horse to a halt. Once stopped, he listened. A deep rumbling came from over the next hill.

“The English?” McGee asked as he shortened up his reins when his horse took another step forward.

“Someone. Many horses. You wait for me here. If I give you a signal, turn and head back to Ducky’s. Understand?”

McGee replied without hesitation, “Yes.”

Gibbs reined his horse off of the road. It was a more difficult path, but he wanted to get a look at who was approaching before they saw him. Pushing his horse on with his heels, Gibbs picked a trail out of sight, urging his horse forward when its hooves slipped on the rocky hill. 

After a difficult climb, Gibbs dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, while he secreted a glance across the road. The colors caught his attention immediately. These soldiers were no more English than he was. 

Grabbing his horse’s reins, Gibbs led the way down the hillside afoot. He set a path to intersect the scores of soldiers on the road. His eyes searched the faces, seeking out the more familiar ones.

Few men lifted their heads when Gibbs appeared at the side of the road. Fewer still raised up their swords until they recognized him. He’d found his target amidst the crowd.

“Fornell, what has happened on the field? Have you defeated the English?”

“Wish we had, Gibbs. I suppose they felt they had done enough damage or perhaps they feel that inner fighting between the clans will finish the rest of us off. They were called back to England. There is talk that the Romans have set their sights on the English Islands. Perhaps the English and the Romans will defeat each other and will let us be.”

“That’s not going to happen, Fornell.”

“I can dream can’t I? I, for one, am glad the fighting is over for now. I have been fighting in the field for far too many days without a decent meal or a decent night’s sleep.”

“What is a soldier without a war?”

Fornell flashed a weary smile. “A farmer. My only regret, Gibbs, is that I have no son to send into battle to represent my line when I am gone.”

“Nor have I.”

“You took word to the McGee clan?”

“Yes. Viv has sent along her son to replace Donald, yet he is still young and foolish.”

“Far too eager for battle?”

“Aye. Which reminds me, I left him down the road. I should ride ahead so he doesn’t panic when he sees the soldiers.”

“Surely he would recognize a Scotsman even at a distance?”

Gibbs mounted his horse and cocked his head. “Not sure the boy has ever been off his farm. Might mistake you mangy lot as a group of ugly English women.”

Fornell laughed solidly. “Aye, that would be enough to scare away half our men, let alone a mere lad.”

Gibbs touched his heel to his horse and cantered ahead, Fornell at his side. Within minutes they could see McGee, steadfastly holding his ground atop the next hill.

“The lad has grown. Seems like he barely made my waist last time I saw him,” Fornell said as he pulled his horse back to a walk.

“Sixteen and thinks himself a man.”

“A man in body, a boy in his mind,” said Fornell. “But what of his spirit?”

“If he’s anything like his father, he will be strong of heart.”

“I had heard Donald was only his step-father.”

“Really? I had thought Timothy and Sarah were of his loins.”

“I think Sarah, yes. I believe Timothy was a very small boy when Donald brought Viv home as his bride, but he raised him as his own.”

Gibbs nodded slowly. “I remember hearing that her first husband had fallen in battle.”

“And Donald’s last wife was taken by illness.”

“We must all face death,” said Gibbs. “It’s only a matter of time.”

McGee smiled as the older men approached him. It was clear the soldiers were from their village and the surrounding farms, not their enemy. As Gibbs and Fornell closed in on him, McGee turned his horse around, pulling over to the right side of the road and adjusting his horse’s gait until Gibbs was at his side. They rode with the group for another two hours before turning south.

Gibbs and Fornell said their farewells at a fork in the road, where Fornell turned his horse to the northern path, while Gibbs headed south. McGee reined his horse to follow after Gibbs, even though the horse seemed to prefer to continue traveling with the larger group.

“Why aren’t we going home with the rest of them?”

“New mission,” Gibbs said. “Fornell told me there were rumors that the Romans have their hearts set on attacking England and there are always rumors of the barbarians ravaging the lands. I prefer they engage the English rather than to have the English invading our lands, yet I have no desire to see the Romans push into Scotland, which they would surely do if they succeed in conquering England.”

“War is a messy business, my father always said.”

“It is. And an ever changing one as well. Alliances are forged and broken. Enemies change. Battles on one field or in one country can change the fighting in another.”

“If only we could all live in peace.”

Gibbs smiled, “Wouldn’t leave much for a soldier to do.”

“Raise his crops and his family.”

“All men are restless. We are not anchored to the land and we shouldn’t be.”

“My father said you had traveled far and fought with many armies in many lands.”

“That is true.”

“I’ve never been too far from home. Only to visit relatives and none live more than two days away. Are we going to the mainland? To Rome?”

“I can’t say we’ll get as far as Rome, but you will see far more than most Scotsmen. First we will head to Din Eidyn. We’ll sell the horses and gain passage on a ship.”

“Wow! I have never even seen a ship. My father drew pictures, but wow.”

“You shall see many marvelous things.”

“My father said you were once a ship builder. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“You have lived an interesting life.”

“I suppose, compared to some.”

Timothy’s words spilled out quickly. “Can you tell me about Abby? Is she your niece? Or Ducky’s? My father said you brought her home after a campaign.”

“McGee! Slow down before you bite off your tongue.”

“I just. I was curious.”

“About what?”

“Abby. I mean. I’m a man now, sixteen. It’s time I got to thinking about taking a wife and building my own home.”

Gibbs chuckled at McGee’s seriousness. “You have time, lad.”

“I like Abby. I like her a lot, Gibbs. I was curious as to whom I should speak to if I was to. I was wanting to. I’d like to, um.”

“Court her?”

“Yes! I thought, after we return, then she will see that I am a man, a soldier. I think she will be impressed by my travels.”

“I wouldn’t count on that McGee. Not sure Abby has much interest in getting married and raising a family.”

“She’s so smart, Gibbs. She’s going to be a doctor one day, like Ducky. I just know it.”

“I suppose he’s the one to ask.”

“Ask what?”

Gibbs pushed his horse into a trot. “If you want to court her,” he called.

McGee smiled and gave his horse its head, allowing it to catch up.

When they stopped for a quick meal and to allow the horses to graze, Gibbs expanded on Abby’s history. “We were riding home from a long campaign and we passed through a county where the crops had been burned and the people murdered.”

“The English?”

“Some fighting is between the clans, but this was clearly the English troops, their actions ordered by their King. We passed by a grove of trees and I saw her watching us. She was just a child at the time. I left the group, told them to continue as I didn’t want to scare her away. I didn’t want her to think we were coming to kill her.”

“Was she frightened?”

“She didn’t seem frightened. She waited as I approached, standing with her back to a tree. She had a few weapons with her, so I spoke to her softly, asking her name. I asked her about what happened at the farm.”

“She saw what happened?”

“Yes. She told me her name was Abby and she took my hand and led me to the farmhouse where everyone was left dead. She told me about how they were killed, blow by blow. She described every soldier, every weapon, every wound in great detail. She told me who fought for their lives and who simply accepted their fate. She described it all, pointing out the wounds on the dead in the order the blows were given.”

“Wow. I didn’t know.”

“She wasn’t scared and she never shed a tear. She just told me what happened as if she were describing a dance at a celebration. And I asked her how she came to be spared. She told me she had been purchased as a slave by the farmer’s aunt across the water, then the aunt brought her here. She doesn’t even know where she came from.”

“That’s so sad. She could be anything then, right? Greek or Roman even.”

“Could be. Then she said she was out working in the fields alone, a fair distance from the house. When she saw the soldiers approaching, she watched. When she saw they were there murdering everyone, she climbed high up into a tree and hid where she could see what was going on below. She said she stayed up in the tree for at least a day, just in case they came back.”

“Did they? Did the soldiers come back?” McGee asked, obviously enthralled with the story.

“Well, yeah, McGee. They came back and killed her. She’s really the ghost of an eight year old child that’s been haunting me ever since.”

Frown lines furrowed themselves across McGee’s brow as he swallowed hard, tearing off another chunk of bread from the loaf he held.

Gibbs sighed and wiped his hand across his mouth. “They never came back. She had already learned many of the jobs around the farm. She knew how to work the fields and the orchards and how to care for the animals. She could milk the cows and gather eggs from the chickens. She knew how to cook. This little girl was all alone amongst all these corpses and she went on as if nothing had happened. I brought her home and asked Ducky to watch over her. He’s as much of a guardian as she has. So if you want to court the girl, you can ask him. But I think it’ll really be Abby you need to convince.”

“I really like her, Gibbs.”

“I can tell.”


	2. Gibbs and McGee have company on their journey.

Gibbs and McGee spent a week riding to a port city where they sold the horses. Gibbs negotiated passage on a ship over to France. Once there, Gibbs spoke to a few men, asking questions. McGee stood aside, curious as to how Gibbs knew where to go or who to talk to. 

McGee followed Gibbs, envying his ability to speak to men in a different language than his native one. Gibbs used some of the money leftover from the sale of the horses to buy food for their trip. McGee soon found that he was sore from carrying the extra weight of his pack, but he learned quickly not to complain about it to Gibbs.

He’d lost count of the days they walked through the countryside when Gibbs took them on a road leading through a small village. A caravan of traders was trekking through the town as well, currently set up in the center square as deals were made. McGee’s eyes widened as he browsed through the wagons, tables and cages.

“They sell just about anything,” Gibbs told McGee as he approached the caravan, looking at the wares.

“Are we buying a pack horse?” McGee asked hopefully.

Gibbs smiled. “Not exactly,” he replied as he continued looking through the offerings. “They are nomads, these people. They travel the same route between countries and villages. They buy and trade, then trade and sell their wares.”

“Who do they fight for? I mean, countries are always fighting. Who’s side are they on?”

“Usually, the side with the money. Without them, the trade route would stop. The wealthy won’t allow that. These traders have protected travels through most countries, they avoid others.”

“I have never seen such things in all my life,” exclaimed McGee in fascination. 

“They travel by road, McGee. It’s not worth their time and money to take a ship over to Scotland.”

“These animals. I have heard descriptions of such animals, but never thought I’d see such things in my lifetime. I wasn’t truly sure they actually existed. They’re amazing.”

“Most are headed to the Coliseums for mock hunts.”

“They’re going to kill them?”

“I hear the Emperors pay good money for exotic animals. All for the sake of impressing their legions.”

A man in robes approached Gibbs and shook his hand. “Gibbs, my good friend, I see you are traveling again. How good to see you. Is this your son? He is a fine looking young man.”

“Greetings, Hasani, my Egyptian friend. This is McGee, a son of a friend who wanted to see the world.”

Hasani smiled broadly, rocking on his feet and touching his fingertips together. “You could not have chosen a better guide than this man. What are you in the market for today, Gibbs? I fear I have no redheads.”

Gibbs looked slightly annoyed at Hasani’s news. “That’s a shame.”

Hasani put his arm around Gibbs’ shoulders while Gibbs poked through some bolts of dyed cloth. “I know of your fondness of redheads, but the women, they have been in short supply on this trip. I have been through villages who had lost many women to sickness of late. But if it is a slave you are after, I may have one that will suit your needs. Issa, bring the Roman soldier. The handsome one, DiNozzo.”

“I wasn’t looking for a soldier, Hasani,” insisted Gibbs.

“I know this, Gibbs, but I see you and the boy are bearing heavy packs. You need a slave who can carry your things. This Roman, he is used to marching all day long. He can carry your load and will never complain. And he is a handsome creature, very pleasing to the eye and I would imagine, in the bed as well. He has other fine qualities. He can cook and he has a lovely voice. He can recite stories and poems or sing to you.”

“Anything he can’t do?”

“He is perfect for you! Look, look.”

Issa led a slave forward. McGee looked in awe. There weren’t slaves in the rural lands where he lived. This man was also a Roman, the first McGee had ever seen. The man’s wrists were shackled with a leather strap looped around the metal chain as a lead. A brand on his neck denoted that he was now a slave.

Gibbs walked around the man, viewing him from all sides.

“Disrobe him,” Hasani commanded. 

Issa tugged the ragged cloth tunic over the slave’s head, revealing a muscular body beneath.

McGee blushed at the sight of a grown man standing before him wearing only a simple loincloth and sandals. 

Taking a closer look, Gibbs placed his hands against the slave’s chest, then felt his back, arms and legs. “He’s a soldier?” 

Hasani pointed to a pink patch on the slave’s side. “He was found on a battlefield, wounded and dying. We fed and treated him. We allowed him to heal.”

“Where is his armor, his weapons, his boots?”

“They sold all my things,” the slave said scathingly.

Hasani was quick to crack his walking stick across the back of the slave’s thighs, causing him to lose his balance and drop to his knees. “The only flaw he has is his tongue. I think I may have to cut it out,” Hasani said in a tone meant to warn the slave to behave. “Other than his wicked tongue, this man is a good man. He is fit and will not complain. He is an honorable man.”

“How much?” Gibbs asked.

McGee stared in silence as Gibbs and Hasani haggled over the price of the slave. He wondered if the man was really a Roman. He had heard amazing tales of the Roman Empire.

“You can take the shackles off. I won’t need them,” Gibbs said.

“Are you certain, my friend?” asked Hasani.

“You told me he was an honorable man. Your name, slave.”

“DiNozzo. Anthony DiNozzo.”

“You may stand. Is it true you were found dying on a battlefield?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“Then you know you owe them your life?”

“Yes.”

“And now that I have purchased that life, you know you are to serve me now?”

“Yes, Master.”

“No need to call me, Master. Gibbs will do. Hasani, I will take him, but the shackles are not needed.”

McGee watched as Issa returned with a very basic undertunic and a nicer tunic to go over it, along with a wide leather belt, and realized this was part of the price Gibbs had bargained for. Once DiNozzo was dressed, Gibbs took his own pack and McGee’s and loaded them onto DiNozzo’s back. Then nodded toward the road. After saying a farewell to Hasani, they were on their way.

“DiNozzo, I will lead. You will bring up the rear. You will protect young McGee here and you will not walk before him. Understood?”

“Yes, Gibbs. Understood.”

The trio walked for hours before taking a break. McGee watched as DiNozzo merely squatted down, not even dropping the packs. McGee himself sprawled across the ground, resting his body, while Gibbs kept his eyes to the horizon, ever searching.

Before long, Gibbs had them up and moving again, setting a brisk pace. McGee occasionally had to jog a bit to catch up, but DiNozzo kept a watchful eye on the boy, never allowing him to lag too far behind.

It was nearly dusk when Gibbs found a spot to settle for the night, away from the road. 

“McGee, go gather some firewood,” Gibbs ordered.

McGee had already collapsed onto the ground, tired and ready to sleep without an evening meal. “Isn’t that what you got the slave for?”

“He will be setting up my tent.” Turning his attention to DiNozzo, Gibbs pointed to a level spot on the ground. “Over there.”

McGee and DiNozzo watched as Gibbs grabbed his long bow and quiver, then walked away from them, heading into the trees. 

“Are you really a Roman?” McGee asked.

“A Roman and a soldier, yes on both accounts.”

“How did you get captured by those tradesmen?”

DiNozzo busily unpacked and set up the tent as he replied, “I didn’t. It was a different group. They did find me injured and dying on a battlefield and did feed me and bring me back to health. Then they sold me to those tradesmen. They were the ones who stripped me of my gear and sold it off though. My boots were better suited for the long treks. And I miss my sword and my armor.”

“Do you miss the battles?”

“I don’t know. Soldiering is difficult work. It requires long hours and much stamina. I prefer it to wearing chains, I think.”

“You’re not wearing chains.”

“Just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. Remember that, especially when you are facing enemies in battle. Just because you don’t see an enemy doesn’t mean they’re not there, ready to attack you at any moment.”

“So you think I’m a soldier?”

Pausing for a moment, DiNozzo nodded to the weapons McGee had been carrying. “You bear the weapons of a soldier.”

“They could belong to Gibbs.”

“He has his own. He carries more than you”

“True. My father fought beside Gibbs, until he fell. I am taking his place.”

DiNozzo searched the countryside around them. “Where is your enemy? Who do you war against, with your two man battalion?”

McGee smiled. “I have just now joined him. For now, we are traveling the world. I had never left Scotland before this journey.”

“Gibbs looks like a man on a mission.”

“Oh, he is,” said Gibbs, stepping over McGee’s outstretched legs. “McGee! Where’s the firewood? We won’t eat until there is a fire, lad. DiNozzo has my tent set up, where is yours?”

DiNozzo was clearing a place for the fire and noticed the two squirrels Gibbs carried. “I can take those and prepare them if you wish. Or I can get the firewood.”

Gibbs looked DiNozzo up and down. “Is it true you can cook?”

“Yes. Not sure it’s what you’re used to, but I do fine.”

Gibbs thrust the two squirrels towards him. “You skin these and prepare them. McGee, get off your ass and gather up some firewood.”

After McGee returned, Gibbs set the wood up, surrounding the pile with rocks before lighting the tinder with his flint stone and knife. DiNozzo prepared the squirrels and rubbed them with olive oil and herbs before settling them above the flames, roasting them on a length of wood held up by other sticks DiNozzo had pushed into the ground for support.

Darkness had fallen and McGee was asleep before the meat was ready. Gibbs sat at the opening of his tent and watched DiNozzo’s every move. When the slave handed him a chunk of meat, he inhaled the scent before biting into the flesh. Once he tasted the meat, he nodded toward DiNozzo.

“This tastes amazing.”

For the first time since Gibbs had purchased him, DiNozzo smiled. “Thank you. It was a clean kill. Good shots, both of them. Are you a trained archer?”

“I can handle a long bow or a long sword.”

DiNozzo admired the bow and quiver Gibbs had set down outside the tent. “I noticed the one arrow is red. Is there a reason it is different?”

“Don’t ever touch the red arrow,” Gibbs warned sternly. “The red marks the arrows I’ve dipped in poison.”

“You can’t hunt with poisoned arrows.”

“Depends on what you’re hunting,” Gibbs said. When he saw DiNozzo’s expression, he quickly added, “It is not meant for you.”

The men ate in virtual silence, with Gibbs studying the stars above him and DiNozzo studying Gibbs. When they were finished eating, Gibbs cast a glance at McGee’s sleeping form, then crawled into his tent and began to undress. A moment later, DiNozzo entered his tent as well.

“Hey! DiNozzo! What are you doing?”

“Going to bed.”

“In here?”

“Well, I have no bedding of my own. I thought I could ward off the chill of the night air while you sleep.”

Gibbs pointed outside the tent. “You can ward off the chill of the night air out there. Watch over McGee. Protect him and keep him safe. That is your first obligation to me. Understood?”

“Yes, Gibbs.” DiNozzo’s shoulders drooped a bit as he retreated from his master’s tent. 

Once outside, he dug through the packs to find McGee’s bedroll. After unfurling it, he laid it over the young man, then smoothed a place in the dirt near the fire for himself. Gibbs watched from the confines of his tent, nodding as he approved of DiNozzo’s actions. He liked that DiNozzo followed orders and thought of others before himself. Gibbs was certain DiNozzo had been an outstanding soldier, an asset to his troop.

When DiNozzo awoke the following morning, he saw that McGee was still asleep. Rather than wake his master, he set about rebuilding the fire. Next, he set off to a small creek Gibbs had pointed out the night before, bathing and refilling their water stores. 

Unbeknownst to DiNozzo, Gibbs had awakened earlier, silently slipping out of their encampment. From a well hidden spot in the nearby woods, he watched DiNozzo’s actions. After bathing quickly in the chilly water, DiNozzo returned to the camp. He awoke McGee, offering him a bit of bread for breakfast, along with meat from the meal he had missed.

“You were very weary. Gibbs must push you hard each day.”

McGee wiped his hands over his face and sat up. “He does. It’s different than being on my parents’ farm. I worked hard, but could take breaks. Gibbs keeps pushing.”

“It’s the warrior in him.”

“Soldier.”

“More than that. There is something that pushes him. Something deep inside. Tell me what you know of him. Is he married?”

“Not anymore. Seems like he knew my father forever. They must have grown up together. My father told me that they traveled together on foot when they were just about my age. They walked across Scotland, then took a boat to Ireland. They didn’t have much money, so they tried to beg for food when they passed by a farmhouse or village. Then one day, they were passing through a village that was having a great celebration. And there was this girl there, dancing with the others. It was said that she was the most beautiful girl in all of Ireland and was courted by many young men, but she turned them all away. Then her eyes met with Gibbs’ and they both immediately knew they were meant to be together. They wed the next day and Gibbs took her home to Scotland. Her name was Shannon.”

“Shannon. A good Irish name, I’m sure. Has she died off? I noticed you said her name _was_ Shannon, not that it is.”

“Yeah, she died a long time ago. He’s been married since. I think three times, but they’ve all left him. I think he bought them all as slaves over here. And since a free man cannot be wedded to a slave, by marrying them, he sets them free. They all stayed with him for a while, but left eventually.”

“Any children?”

“My father said that Gibbs and Shannon had a daughter named Kelly. He said Shannon could not bear to be away from Gibbs so she followed him when he left to battle. She and the other wives and families kept a camp a short distance away and cooked for the soldiers, washed their clothing and saw to their wounds. Then there came a day when the men were off to battle and the enemy split their forces. Some engaged the men on the battlefield, while others found the encampment and slaughtered all the women and children, along with the few men left to guard them.”

“It is a dishonorable man who kills women and children. Sounds like barbarians.”

“My father said Gibbs has never been the same since the day he found their bodies. He said Gibbs never loved the other women he wed, never like he loved Shannon. He’d only brought the others home to cook, clean and sew for him.”

“He should have left them as slaves.”

“It’s not so acceptable where we live. You are the first slave I have seen.”

“Really? Rome was built by the backs of slaves. All the wealthy have several slaves for all sorts of purposes.”

“Were you always a slave?”

“No. I was not a slave until I was injured and left dying on the battlefield.”

McGee nodded slowly as he thought about the implications. “Woke up a soldier and went to sleep a slave. That had to be a huge change.”

“It hasn’t been so bad as yet, other than being kept in chains and shown to buyers. My father had many slaves. I know what is expected.”

“Do you have a wife and children?”

DiNozzo smiled brightly. “Ah, yes. Some say that marriage was my downfall. I took a liking to a pretty girl and we stole away one night. We traveled together and married. When we returned to Rome, I had no money, no home of my own, so I took her to live with me at my father’s house. My father and hers were both furious. Her father came and took her away then had papers drawn up to say we were no longer husband and wife. I have not seen her since, but have heard she remarried very soon after that to a much older man, a friend of her father’s, and bore a son a few months later. I was told he looks like me.”

“But you never saw the child?”

“Never. My father had me arrested on false charges and I was given three choices. I could go to prison, become a gladiator to fight and die in the coliseum or I could become a soldier. I did not wish to rot away in prison. I considered becoming a gladiator, but I was unsure of their training and if you displease those in charge, you will die a horrible death in the coliseum in front of all you know. I had been told death in the coliseum is far worse than death in battle. So it was a soldier I became.”

“My father rode with Gibbs for many years, but he died in battle recently. I am now old enough to take my place as a soldier and to fight for our lands and our rights.”

“I wish you well in your endeavors, young McGee. But I think Gibbs is on a quest of his own for now. Something eats at him and he hunts it.”

“He said he was coming here to find out what was going on. He will seek information and return to Scotland to share it with the others. We mostly battle with other Scottish clans or the English. It was battling with English soldiers that took my father’s life. Then they withdrew. Gibbs came to find out why.”

“You are a great distance away from England, lad. Gibbs has his own mission in mind and I’d bet it has nothing to do with England.” DiNozzo took a good look at McGee, then asked, “Are you his lover?”

McGee nearly choked on his food and took a few moments to recover. “What?”

DiNozzo smiled broadly. “His lover. Does he take you at night, into his tent? I mean, if I wasn’t here.”

“No!”

“Really? Because a man out here on his own, no woman. One wonders what he does for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?”

“Love making. I offered to share his bed last night and he sent me outside. I thought perhaps he slept with you and did not want to insult you by taking another man.”

“We don’t. In Scotland, we wait until we are married and we then do our husbandly duty only with our wife.”

DiNozzo laughed heartily. “Sure you do. And you only sleep with a woman when you seek to have a child?”

“What’s that got to do with it? Children come with marriage.”

“Oh, my little McVirgin. I dare say some of your education is lacking.”

“And you have slept with men?”

“Yes, of course. My father is a Senator in Rome. Even when he had private baths added to his house, he would still take me along to the public baths, for that is where much business and politics is done. He would offer me to his Senator friends at the bath.”

“That’s terrible!”

“That is how it is in Rome.”

“I always heard of the greatness of Rome. How beautiful it is and how advanced. It sounds terribly barbaric.”

“Rome is beautiful and advanced. The art and architecture is breathtaking. But we value pleasure above all else. Rome for the wealthy is the best of all worlds. The poor have much to enjoy as well, but they must work far harder. The food, the clothing, the women, the decadence. Oh Rome, how I miss thee.”

DiNozzo smiled as he settled onto his back, looking up to the sky, his thoughts lost in his memories.

Gibbs returned a short time later, telling them it was time to pack up and move on. As always, Gibbs led the way and DiNozzo brought up the rear, keeping McGee on pace. McGee never dared to complain, but when DiNozzo saw him faltering, he was the one to ask Gibbs if they could take a short break. Gibbs would often acquiesce, then walk ahead to scout out the road. He would return a few minutes later to get them up and moving again.

During their breaks, DiNozzo would often take out pieces of bread, cheese and meat to offer to McGee. As soldiers, he and Gibbs were used to long marches on minimum food and drink, but quite obviously, the boy was not accustomed to the long hauls and meager rations.

As they sat, resting and waiting for Gibbs in the afternoon, DiNozzo ventured to ask, “Do they have schools where you live in Scotland?”

“Probably nothing like what you have in Rome. Our education is mostly learning to work the farm. If a farmer has more than one son, the eldest is to take over the family farm. The others are often apprenticed out. But we are fortunate in our town. Many have traveled and have learned much. Some of the older ones will teach us. If we have a desire to learn, we seek out these elders and ask to be taught, that is, if our parents will spare us from our duties on the farm. I have learned fighting in this way.”

“Yeah? Are you handy with a sword, young master McGee?”

“We learned with sticks, but now I have a true sword to carry.”

“Sticks?”

“So we didn’t hurt each other. How did you learn?”

“At first with wooden swords,” DiNozzo said as he rose to his feet and began searching the ground. “Then when we became older, more adept, we used swords with metal blades that were kept dull. You see, there is a great difference between fighting with a piece of wood and with metal. The weight and balance is completely difference.”

Scouring the ground, DiNozzo eventually found a couple sturdy sticks of similar size and returned to McGee, offering a hand to assist him to his feet. Then he handed one of the sticks to the boy, nodding to him.

“Let us see what you have learned.”

McGee grinned and began slowly, working on holding the stick and striking the other, just as he had been taught. He demonstrated the footwork he had learned. DiNozzo gave him words of encouragement until Gibbs appeared in the distance, then he easily subdued McGee and took him to the ground.

“What’s going on here?” Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo flashed a smile as he tossed his stick away. “Just checking out the boy’s skill with a sword. I dare say, he is not yet ready for battle.”

“Fine, fine. Perhaps you could take on the challenge of training the lad, the way they train Roman soldiers?”

“It would be an honor. When we have time, we shall work on his skills. For now,” DiNozzo paused as he again offered his hand to McGee, pulling him back onto his feet, “for now, we will get back to our march.”

Gibbs watched as DiNozzo hefted up his packs, then placed an arm around McGee’s shoulder, like a comforting older brother.


	3. McGee wants to learn more from DiNozzo.

Although Gibbs clearly had something on his mind as he pushed the three of them further on their journey, he never confided in McGee or DiNozzo. Instead, he enjoyed watching DiNozzo teaching McGee the art of sword fighting as well as hand to hand combat. Occasionally Gibbs would join in with the excuse that he wanted to keep his edge. He delighted in testing Tony’s skills, but was able to take him down when he wanted to.

At night Gibbs still slept alone in his tent, while on nice nights, McGee and DiNozzo would sleep beneath the stars near the fire pit. On rainy nights, they made use of the trees for shelter when they could. When the nights turned cold, McGee would invite DiNozzo inside so they could share the warmth of his tent.

One morning they awoke to find Gibbs had gone. They were out of meat and his bow and quiver of arrows were missing, so they thought it was likely he’d gone hunting. With a slow drizzle coming down, McGee and DiNozzo made no effort to get up and out of the tent until the rain stopped. Then it was DiNozzo who tapped McGee on the hip.

“We should go out and gather firewood. Gibbs will no doubt want a hot meal and a warm fire when he returns.”

“Everything is wet,” insisted McGee as he stretched and yawned.

“Not everything. The rain was light. There should be dry wood to be found in the forest. Come along now.”

McGee finally rose and followed after DiNozzo. They had to trek a ways into the brush to find wood that was large enough and dry enough for their fire. DiNozzo brought along a pack, using it to wrap around the wood, so he could carry a larger load.

On their second trip for firewood, they pushed even deeper into the forest. As they began to gather wood and kindling, McGee kept looking up at DiNozzo, but not saying anything. Finally DiNozzo had enough of the youngster’s silent curiosity.

“What McGee?”

“I just. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“I, um. Hmm.”

“Out with it, McGee. What’s on your mind?”

“There’s this girl I like,” McGee began.

DiNozzo smiled and tossed a few branches onto the pile he was gathering. “Well, McGee, you’ve been holding out on me. I thought you always told me everything. What’s her name?”

“Her name is Abby. She’s an orphan. Gibbs found her and brought her back to our village. Our doctor, Ducky, he watches over her. She stays with him.”

“Like a wife?”

“No, no. Like a daughter. Gibbs treats her like a daughter, or maybe like a niece, because he lives somewhere else. He has a place, a cottage, not far from Ducky’s.”

“Neighbors?”

“Yes. Anyway, Abby is so smart and so pretty. I want to start courting her when I return.”

“Does she feel the same way about you?”

“It’s hard to tell with Abby. I mean, she hugged me goodbye when we left on our journey, but she hugs Gibbs, too. I like her a lot though and she’s so smart. We talk about things. She learns so much from Ducky and from Gibbs. Ducky has books. Real books. So Abby knows how to read. She knows all about plants and healing. I just know that when Ducky dies, Abby will take over as our village doctor.”

“And you want me to teach you how to read?”

“I know how to read. A little. Abby and Ducky taught me.”

“Then what is it you want from me?”

“You’ve been with a woman, right?”

“As in slept with one? Many, actually. I told you, in Rome we value pleasure above all else. In Rome, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping with your neighbor’s wife, unless you get caught. Or if you’re wealthy. The wealthy can do pretty much anything they want. I hear the Emperor regularly takes the wives of his guests and beds them while their husbands sit at his table drinking wine!”

“In Scotland, we have all these clans and these men who have pronounced themselves Kings. Sometimes they will come and claim rights to a maiden and not marry her. It is shameful, but there is nothing we can do against them, unless we want to start another war.”

“Sounds like there are many battles to be fought in your land.”

McGee looked down thoughtfully for a moment. “Yes, it seems there is always one clan fighting with another or one King fighting with another unless the English or Irish invade. Then we fight them off before going back to fighting amongst ourselves.”

“It will settle eventually. A hundred years ago the cities of the Roman Empire fought against each other. Then they decided to band together and become the strongest army there was and to fight against other countries and get more land and wealth that way rather than taking it from each other. And killing each other. I am certain things will change in Scotland eventually.”

“What I wanted to ask you about was this. When I go back. After I’ve done this traveling around with Gibbs. I think when I go back, I would like to court Abby and marry her one day. What I want to know is. How do you, um. How do I?”

“Come on McGee, before sunset maybe?”

“I want to know how to kiss her. And when you lay with a woman.” McGee closed his eyes tightly and his words tumbled out together so quickly they were almost jumbled together. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything about courting and stuff like that.”

DiNozzo stepped closer to the boy and shook his arm. “First of all, you need to keep your eyes open, at least when you’re talking. Okay, so when you get back. Actually, before you get back. You need to buy her a fine gift. When you get back, you go to her and make a special presentation and you tell her you thought of her and nothing else while you were traveling.”

“Well, that’s pretty much the truth,” McGee admitted.

“What about learning to fight?”

“That, too. But mostly I think about Abby and marrying her.”

“Focus, McGee. Give her a gift and maybe ask her to take a stroll or a horseback ride with you. Do that often and tell her she’s pretty and smart. Give her what gifts you can, flowers, food. Anything. If you can make her things, then do it. Compliment her. Then when you’re ready, you ask for her hand in marriage. Tell her you can’t live without her and that you want to share your life with her.”

“What about the laying with her thing? How do I do that?”

“You said you grew up on a farm. Don’t you have animals?”

“Some.”

“Haven’t you ever seen them breeding?”

“Breeding?”

“Hmm, how about when you wake up in the mornings? Especially if you’ve been thinking or dreaming of Abby, please tell me your cock gets hard.”

“Sometimes.”

“Good. That’s good, McGee. Are you sure your father never spoke to you about this?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Pity. Girls are built differently, McGee.”

“I know that.”

“Have you ever, when your cock is hard, have you ever rubbed it?”

“No. We were taught that touching yourself is a sin.”

“I think in Rome it’s a sin not to touch yourself,” DiNozzo mused. “Tomorrow morning, you, me and a jug of olive oil and I will teach you the joys of self-pleasure.”

“I don’t want to do anything sinful.”

“If it was all that bad, I would have gone blind long ago and the gods would have struck me down dead. It’s fine. That’s how you learn. You have to learn how to pleasure yourself before you can pleasure someone else. Makes sense, right?”

“I guess it does.”

“And you do want to make Abby happy don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So that will be one thing we will work on. Now, even before you get married, there are things you can do. Have you ever kissed her?”

McGee’s eyes opened wide. “No! We’ve just talked. But once, we were in the stables and when she got up and turned really fast, my hand brushed against her hair. It was so soft,” McGee said as his voice faded away, lost in his memory.

DiNozzo snapped his fingers in McGee’s face. “Hey! Focus! Do you know if she’s ever had a beau?”

“Not that I know of.”

“So you think she’s never been kissed?”

“Well, not like that. Gibbs kisses her, but on her cheek or forehead. He used to always kiss her on the forehead, but she’s gotten really tall. And she makes herself these boots and they make her even taller. She looks like royalty when she walks, almost like she’s floating above everyone else.”

“Before anything else, you need to learn how to kiss her. Now, the first time you kiss her, a peck on the cheek is fine. Make it quick and keep your lips together. Maybe for you, stick with the cheek kisses for a while. Or you can kiss her hand. Some women think that is very noble of a young man.”

“For how long?”

“For me, first time I meet a girl. For you, maybe a year. Just kidding. Every relationship is different. For me, usually I just want to bed them and then move on. For you, you want to make a lifetime with Abby, so there is no reason to hurry things. Take your time and make your moves when you’re comfortable.”

McGee nodded and licked his lips as he took in DiNozzo’s words.

“When you’re ready, kiss her on her mouth. Keep the kisses short at first. Then you can add in some touches. Touch her arm, her hair, embrace her. Kiss her neck. Then you move on to parting your lips just a little bit. See if you can get her to part her lips. When she does, you can press your tongue inside her mouth.”

McGee scrunched up his face. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s a lead in to laying with her. Eventually you’re going to put your cock inside of her.”

“Really?”

“Yes, McFarmboy. Trust me. Look, in Rome boys learn these things from the men. It’s not at all uncommon for a Roman man to have a wife, a mistress and a young male lover.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look at me like that! Yes! What I say is true. All true. Maybe I should show you. About the kissing thing. Then you can understand how to do it and how it should feel. Now, you’re going to be Abby and I will be you. Only a much more experienced and confident you. Do you want to try that?”

McGee backed himself up against a tree as he thought about it, but in the end, he nodded. “I want to learn.”

Stepping forward, DiNozzo put his hands on McGee’s shoulders. “Abby will be proud of you. After all, you’re doing this because you want to please her and win her hand. Right?”

“Right. For Abby.”

Tilting his head slightly, DiNozzo pressed forward until his lips were against McGee’s. He held them there only for a brief moment, then pulled away. “See? Nothing to it.”

Licking his lips, McGee nodded. His hands dropped down and pressed against the trunk of the tree behind him, steadying himself.

DiNozzo pushed in again. This time he used his fingers to position McGee’s face, tilting it up slightly. He kept up the tender kisses for a few minutes, until he could feel the hard press of McGee’s cock against his leg.

“That’s right, McGee. That’s exactly right. When the two of you grow more accustomed to each other, you can let her feel that.”

“What?”

“When your cock is hard. Let it press against her leg. Let her touch it if she wants to. Let her know that she excites you, that you want her.”

Leaning closer, DiNozzo pressed McGee hard against the tree, allowing his body to pin McGee’s. With his lips against McGee’s, DiNozzo started to slowly rock his hips against McGee. “Just a little at first,” he said breathily.

When McGee moved his hands, he pressed them first against DiNozzo’s abdomen, then wrapped them around his back to pull him in closer. DiNozzo parted his lips and allowed his tongue to snake into the deep warmth of McGee’s mouth. All the while, he kept increasing the pressure and rhythm of his humping, delighting when McGee began to pant and moan softly. 

“You’ll know when it’s right,” DiNozzo whispered. “You’ll both know.”

“DiNozzo!” came the brusque voice of Gibbs, accompanied by a slap to the back of his head. “What are you doing?”

DiNozzo felt his right arm grabbed and twisted painfully behind his back as he was roughly pulled away from McGee. “I was just teaching him.”

“That’s something he doesn’t need to learn from you!” shouted Gibbs as he took DiNozzo to the ground face first, landing on him heavily. “He’s young. Impressionable. He doesn’t need to learn the ways of a Roman deviant! McGee, come along. DiNozzo, you can crawl back to camp like the serpent you are.”

Gibbs grabbed McGee’s arm with one hand and gathered his kill with the other and began a swift trek back to camp, leaving DiNozzo behind alone.

“What were you thinking, McGee? Why would you allow him to touch you like that?”

“For Abby,” McGee said quietly, his head hanging down.

“For Abby?”

“I wanted to learn how to kiss her properly. And how to touch her and court her. DiNozzo is so good looking, I bet the girls all chase after him. I figured he has a lot of experience and could teach me things.”

“I dare say there are things he can teach you that you’d be better off not knowing about.”

Gibbs found enough firewood already at their camp to start a decent cooking fire. When DiNozzo didn’t return to camp, Gibbs set about dressing the goose he had killed for the fire. He knew he could have given the chore to McGee, but felt it would quiet his mind to focus on the bird. 

With Gibbs cooking, the meat didn’t have the flavor of DiNozzo’s cooking, but McGee didn’t dare mention it as the pair ate in silence. Gibbs watched as the stars began to show in the sky. McGee constantly glanced back toward the forest, watching for DiNozzo to appear.

“Aren’t you going to go look for him?” McGee asked quietly.

“DiNozzo? He’s only off sulking. He’ll return when he gets hungry enough.”

Gibbs left McGee sitting by the fire as he headed into his tent. McGee remained there as long as he could stay awake, but finally went into his own tent and gave in to sleep.

Early the next morning, McGee awoke to find Gibbs rebuilding the fire. There was still no sign of DiNozzo. “He must have gotten lost, Gibbs. Or captured. Please, let’s go look for him.”

Gibbs shot a look at McGee, intending to quiet him.

“Please, Gibbs. Can I at least go look for him?”

“DiNozzo is experienced in the forest. You are not. You, I fear, would find yourself lost the moment you were out of my sight.”

“It wasn’t his fault, Gibbs. I swear. I asked him to show me.”

“He should have known better.”

“He says that’s how things are in Rome. The boys learn from the men. He says Roman men can have wives and male lovers both.”

“You are not Roman. You need not learn of such things.”

“Then you know them to be true?”

“Rome is a city wild with decadence and no doubt DiNozzo has an abundance of sinful ways. He need not drag you down that path he has chosen for himself.”

“I asked him. I _wanted_ to learn. How else am I going to learn what to do?”

Gibbs pointed to his gut. “In here. It will tell you what to do and when to do it. When you do wed, McGee, your gut will tell you what to do.”

“I just wanted to learn to do it right.”

“The Roman way isn’t necessarily the right way. I don’t want you to let him touch you like that again. Understand? McGee! Do you understand?”

McGee’s expression pulled into a pout. After wrapping his arms around his knees, he nodded to Gibbs, but refused to look at him.

Gibbs left McGee behind and headed off to refill their water containers on his own. He took his time and hoped DiNozzo would return to camp before him. When he returned to camp, there was only McGee, poking at the fire with a stick.

“You stay here,” Gibbs ordered.

McGee held his breath and his tongue as he watched Gibbs disappear into the forest. Gibbs set out at a brisk march through the tangled weave of brush, roots and branches. His jaw was set, as he worked through the tongue lashing he prepared for his slave as he thought of DiNozzo sitting off alone in the woods, defiantly pouting. 

He had thought he would come across his slave sleeping beneath a tree, but he saw no sign DiNozzo had come this far. Every few minutes, he shouted out, but there was no response.

When he found the spot where they had left the slave, he checked the ground for signs of what had happened. The pile of firewood they had been collecting the day before was still there. Gibbs then noticed traces of blood on the ground. Kneeling down, he touched the rock where the blood trail began and thought back to the day before, when he had pulled DiNozzo off of McGee and had thrown him heavily to the ground, landing on top of him.

“He didn’t move,” Gibbs mumbled to himself. “He didn’t move because he hit his head. He may have been unconscious. And I left him here. Wounded. Alone. I left him behind, wounded and alone.”

Standing up quickly, Gibbs brushed his hands together, knocking off the dirt as he surveyed the area. A series of broken twigs, disturbed rocks, and bent plants and leaves gave Gibbs a good idea which way DiNozzo had gone.

“DiNozzo!” he called loudly. No reply was returned.

Gibbs followed the path. It was in the right general direction as their camp, but angled far enough off that it was obvious DiNozzo had veered away from his intended destination. Gibbs shook his head as he could identify marks left by Tony’s fingers and knees as well as occasional drag marks left by his body. He had tried to return to camp crawling just as Gibbs had ordered him to do.

Gibbs sighed and glanced ahead of the rugged path of disturbed foliage, then began to jog. He kept his pace slow enough to follow the trail, but one that would get him to DiNozzo faster than walking. Scenarios began playing through Gibbs’ mind. He weighed out things that could have happened to DiNozzo. 

Obviously he was lost and had strayed off course with no food or drink. He’d already spent one night without the warmth of a fire. There was also the possibility that someone else could have come across him. The thought of robbers, soldiers or traders finding DiNozzo alone on the road, obviously injured, made Gibbs uncomfortable.

After a couple hours of fighting through the brush and trees of the forest, Gibbs found himself at the edge of a glade, very much like the one they were camped at. Shading his eyes with his hand, he searched across the glade, then around its perimeter. Not far away, he saw DiNozzo sitting on a boulder, his head bowed into his hands. Gibbs approached him slowly, silently.

When he was within reach, Gibbs placed his hand on DiNozzo’s nearest shoulder and spoke softly. “We became worried when you didn’t return to camp.”

When DiNozzo lowered his hands, Gibbs could clearly see the wound around his right eye. Dried blood left a caked trail down DiNozzo’s cheek and onto his tunic. Puffiness surrounded the eye, the skin fading through various hues of reds, blues and purples.

Gibbs lifted DiNozzo’s chin to get a better look. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think to check,” he began. Taking hold of DiNozzo’s arm, Gibbs pulled him to his feet and embraced him. “I never would have left you behind had I known you were injured. Never.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get lost. The darkness came and my vision blurred. I came to the glade in the darkness still. I thought you had left me behind. I’m sorry I couldn’t find the way back on my own.”

Gibbs backed off slightly, taking DiNozzo’s face between the palms of his hands. His eyes taking in DiNozzo’s expression and stance. It was obvious that DiNozzo was shaken by his failure. “Never apologize. It’s a sign of weakness. I already know this about you, DiNozzo, you are not a weak man.”

Once again Gibbs pulled DiNozzo into a tight hug, their warm bodies flush against each other. DiNozzo stood helplessly for a couple minutes, then allowed his head to fall onto Gibbs’ shoulder and his hands to embrace Gibbs’ frame. DiNozzo felt there was little strength left in his body and was thankful to allow Gibbs to hold him up.

“Can you walk?” Gibbs asked, his hand moving to cradle the back of DiNozzo’s head.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Gibbs rubbed his hand down the length of DiNozzo’s back as he released him. “Let’s get back to camp,” he said. “McGee’s been worried sick about you. Says this was all his fault.”

“The fault is mine,” DiNozzo admitted. “He is young and unknowing. I should remember that not all societies live as does Rome.”

Gibbs gently slapped the back of DiNozzo’s head. “It was poor judgment all around, including my own. McGee said that he had asked you to teach him. Since I asked you to tutor him in the art of fighting and swordsmanship, it should be no surprise that he would ask you about other things. Things he wanted to learn more about.”

“He told me of his love of a girl named Abby.”

Gibbs’ face lit up at the mention of Abby’s name. “She is an amazing child.”

“He told me of how you rescued her and brought her home to live with your friend.”

“A friend I trust with my life. I knew Abby would be safe with him.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t take charge of her yourself?”

“I am a soldier, DiNozzo. It seems I am away more than I am home. She was young when I found her. Too young to be left on her own.”

“McGee also told me of your family. Of Shannon and Kelly.”

“I’m surprised he remembers them.”

“I’m not certain that he does. What he told me was of stories his father had told to him.”

“You can’t believe all the stories you hear. McGee told me the stories you told him of Rome. How married men tend to have mistresses and male lovers aside from their wives.”

“It is true. Such things are allowed in Rome and the wealthier a man is, the less he must hide such things.”

Gibbs stopped walking and turned to face DiNozzo, studying his eyes. “McGee told me your father is a Senator in Rome and that he took you to the baths as a child, willingly offering you to his friends. He said that you told him that was how the men of Rome learn their lovemaking techniques, from the older males.”

“That is also true.”

Turning forward, Gibbs continued walking. “I do not want McGee to learn in such a way.”

“It is thought it is the best way to learn, from the older, more experienced men.”

Gibbs touched his fingers to his heart, tapping it lightly. “The art of love is best learned by instinct. When the woman you find is the right one, your heart will teach you all you need to know.”

“In McGee’s case, I am not certain it is enough. He has no idea of where children come from. He lives on a farm and knows nothing of breeding animals. If not taught, how is he to learn?”

“He will learn, when he is ready.”

“The boy thinks he is ready now.”

“He looks up to you, DiNozzo.”

“Me? I am but a slave. It is you he admires.”

“He does not fully understand the concept of slavery. It is not common in our land.”

“He told me I was the first slave he has seen.”

“Likely true. Despite what he asks of you, you are not to teach him anything more about kissing, touching and lovemaking. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“McGee is weary and you are injured. I have something I need to tend to. I want you to stay here with him. Watch over him and care for him. You may continue his lessons in fighting, hunting, cooking, swordsmanship, but nothing more about relationships.”

“You’re leaving us?”

“I will return.”

“When? How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

“What if we are found?”

“You bear the mark of a slave. You are to say you are to wait here per your master’s orders. You may tell them the truth, that you were injured and the boy was weary and that I left you both here to recuperate, knowing I could travel more quickly alone. If you find you must move on, simply leave me a sign as to which direction you have headed. I will find you.”

DiNozzo nodded as he considered the great responsibility Gibbs had placed onto his shoulders.


	4. The trio heads home to Scotland. One of them falls ill.

While Gibbs was gone, DiNozzo did his best to keep McGee entertained and fed. Although he allowed McGee to wax poetic about Abby, he would change to subject any time McGee hinted that he wanted to practice more kissing or touching. Instead, DiNozzo would pick up a couple sturdy branches he kept close by and order McGee to defend himself.

After two weeks had gone by, DiNozzo raised his head and searched into the distance.

“What?” McGee asked when he took in the concern on DiNozzo’s face.

Keeping his voice low, DiNozzo divulged, “Horses. Riders are approaching. Fast. Too fast. They ride as if they are hunting someone or something. Or someone or something is hunting them. Run for the trees, McGee. Hide.”

DiNozzo was soon up and running, just a pace behind McGee as they sprinted for the forest. DiNozzo grabbed for McGee’s arm and pulled him down into the brush where they could watch their camp, yet remain hidden from view.

Concealed by the living greenery around them, DiNozzo and McGee found themselves breathing heavily as they listened to the hoof beats grow louder. McGee trembled and looked as if he were ready to run deeper into the forest, so DiNozzo kept a tight hold of his arm. 

“Don’t move,” DiNozzo whispered. “They may see the movement in the brush.”

A few moments later one rider came into view. A cloth was wrapped around his face, hiding his features. He led a pair of riderless horses behind him as he entered the camp. From atop his horse, he searched around the encampment. 

“DiNozzo!” he called.

Realizing who it was, DiNozzo rose quickly, pulling McGee along with him as he made his way back to the clearing. “Gibbs!”

“There’s no time. Get the weapons and we must be gone. Now!”

DiNozzo scrambled around the camp, grabbing up what he could including McGee’s broad sword and short sword.

“McGee, mount up!” Gibbs yelled.

“But the tents?”

“Leave them. There’s no time. DiNozzo, ride in the back. Watch out for McGee.”

“Yes, Gibbs.” DiNozzo mounted the last horse and got himself settled as Gibbs turned his horse to the northwest and took off at a full gallop. McGee looked to DiNozzo, the confusion easily readable on his face. “Go! Follow Gibbs. I will be right behind you.”

Despite never seeing anyone riding after them, Gibbs continued to push both the horses and riders to their limit, reaching the coast of France in record time.

“We ride north, along the coast until we reach a port.”

“We’re going back home?” asked McGee.

“Yes. It is time.”

“So you gathered all the information the clans need?”

“Sure McGee. I have done what needed to be done.”

Gibbs continued to press on. DiNozzo remained in the rear, constantly checking behind them for anyone who may be approaching. Whomever Gibbs was running from never appeared. DiNozzo suspected they had ceased their chase days ago and returned to wherever they came from. He smiled as he imagined they called Gibbs the ghost and spoke of how he had appeared amongst them suddenly, done what he had gone there to do, then had simply vanished without a trace.

When they reached a port city, Gibbs took the horses and sold them, then went to the docks to barter passage back to Scotland. The ship he found was headed out early the next day.

“Looks like you will at least get a glance of Ireland,” he said to McGee. “The ship we are taking will dock in Ireland before going on to Scotland.”

McGee smiled and nodded.

DiNozzo stood beside the boy and asked, “You have your heart set on seeing Ireland?”

“Just another place I can say I have seen,” McGee said proudly.

That evening Gibbs surprised them by dining out at a local eatery then springing for lodging rather than having them spend their last night in France on the ground. He’d even managed to rent a room with three small beds in it and a window which overlooked the docks.

In the morning, Gibbs awoke first and went for a walk alone. The stroll brought him to the docks where he stood looking out across the ocean. DiNozzo awoke a short time later and saw Gibbs from the window. After dressing, he joined Gibbs on the docks.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Gibbs said when DiNozzo approached him. “It’s not our way to have slaves where we are from. You have served me well. You have served the purpose for which I bought you for. You may journey with us to Scotland if you choose. There you would be a free man. I doubt any in our village knows the meaning of the mark on your neck. Or you may remain here, if you prefer.”

“I wish to go with you,” DiNozzo said quickly. “There is no life for me here. I have no skills to earn my way. I know no trade except that of a soldier.”

Gibbs smiled and placed his hand on DiNozzo’s shoulder then moved it to cup DiNozzo’s chin. “You have many skills and much knowledge. I fear you sell yourself short, my friend.”

The pride DiNozzo felt at Gibbs’ words beamed across his face. “I will go with you, to your town in Scotland. Perhaps McGee can teach me the ways of a farmer.”

Gibbs chuckled as he imagined McGee taking on the task of teaching DiNozzo how to plant fields and tend stock. “I am pleased you will return with us. You are a good, honorable man, Anthony DiNozzo.”

DiNozzo tapped his heart. “Something you felt in here?”

“The moment I first laid eyes on you. I knew it then. Come on, let’s go get McGee.”

The trio found a place to buy food and drink for breakfast and for their trip back to Scotland. They were in high spirits as they approached the docks, watching as cargo was loaded aboard the ship. Gibbs allowed them to observe the loading for a while. After a time, he gave a nod toward the plank where the passengers boarded.

“We better get aboard ourselves before she sets sail.”

As they had become accustomed to, Gibbs led the way, followed by McGee with DiNozzo bringing up the rear. Gibbs pulled out the money he had promised to pay for their passage then got into an argument with the First Mate.

“He bears the mark of a slave and slaves must travel below deck. Slaves are cargo, not passengers.”

“I have given him his freedom. He is a free man,” insisted Gibbs, fire blazing in his eyes.

Before long the Captain approached the ruckus, listened to both sides and took in the mark on DiNozzo’s neck. He then pulled Gibbs aside. “It is not you I wish to slight, however, there are other passengers aboard, some who would take offense to traveling alongside a slave, or even a former slave. I will refund half of the man’s fare, but he must travel below deck as cargo. It is not a long journey and he will get there all the same.”

Gibbs finally agreed to the Captain’s terms, but was clearly not happy with it. “Let me explain it to him. Before he is taken below.”

The Captain nodded and motioned to his First Mate that the man was to travel below the deck.

Gibbs pulled DiNozzo aside. “It’s a stupid rule, but there are men of great affluence aboard. The Captain does not wish to insult them. Apparently here, once a slave, always a slave.”

“I understand, Gibbs. Don’t fret about me. I will sleep away the journey and be well rested once we set foot on land again.”

Gibbs once again cupped DiNozzo’s chin with his hand, smiling proudly. “Take this. It is food and wine for the journey. We shall see each other soon.”

DiNozzo smiled back at Gibbs then followed the First Mate’s directions to where the other sailors were loading the cargo into the hold below the deck.

Gibbs found McGee standing at the rail.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Gibbs rested his arms on the railing and looked out across the ocean. “No matter how wise and how well educated you become, McGee, there will always be things that make no sense to you. One of the downfalls of traveling these lands is that different cultures, different countries may have different laws and customs than your own. While you are in their land, you must abide by their rules. It is of no use to argue against their established rules when you are only a traveler heading through their lands for a brief stretch of time.”

McGee nodded and let out a deep breath he’d been holding. “I have enjoyed the traveling very much, but have missed my mother and sister.”

“And Abby?” Gibbs said with a smile.

A blush reddened McGee’s face. “Especially Abby. But please don’t tell my mother that. I can’t wait to get back and see them all and tell them of my travels. DiNozzo took me for a walk last night. I bought something for Abby.”

“Bought? Where did you get the money?”

“I sold my father’s short sword. I know his broad sword has been in the family for many years and they are all I had to bargain with. Anyway, DiNozzo made certain I received a fair price for the sword, then he helped me pick this out for Abby.” 

Gibbs watched as McGee withdrew a wrapped gift from his pack and slowly uncovered it. 

“It is beautiful,” declared Gibbs.

“Not as beautiful as Abby. Do you think she will like it?”

Gibbs placed his arm around McGee’s shoulder. “I can’t think of a gift she would like better.”

McGee smiled brightly as he rewrapped his gift and placed it back into his pack. “I wish DiNozzo could be on the deck with us. The ocean is so immense, so beautiful.”

“I have no doubt that he has sailed before and has seen a great many more things than you and I combined. He said he was tired and that he planned to sleep the entire trip anyway. He wanted to be well rested for our journey into Scotland.”

When they docked at the port city in Ireland, McGee begged to go ashore and visit the town. Gibbs agreed, then asked for DiNozzo to be allowed out of the ship’s hold. At first there was an argument about allowing the slave out for the day, but when the issue was taken to the Captain, he agreed to let Gibbs take DiNozzo while they were in port. DiNozzo still carried his pack with food and a wineskin along with him, fearing they would be lost to him if he left them behind.

Gibbs took the lead, heading down the main street in search of a tavern. McGee was giddy as he looked through the town with widened eyes. DiNozzo lagged a bit behind, walking slower than normal, not as alert. The recent rainy days in Ireland had left the streets well muddied, which made his walking in sandals difficult.

When they had made their way to a tavern, Gibbs ordered them a round of ale and a meal of bread, pork, and cabbage cooked with carrots and bacon. 

McGee beamed as he told DiNozzo of the things he had seen, the birds and fish of the ocean. DiNozzo listened and nodded, but was much quieter than he normally was.

After they had finished eating, Gibbs allowed McGee to see the town on his own, just so long as he promised to make his way back to the ship before they set sail the next morning. Once the boy had left, Gibbs settled his hand on DiNozzo’s upper thigh.

“Are you feeling ill?”

“No. I will be fine.”

“You seem quiet.”

“It is not as easy as one would think to fall asleep in the belly of a rolling ship.”

“Ah, the sea troubles your stomach?”

“Perhaps a bit. I look forward to the day I can leave the ship behind.”

“Land lover,” Gibbs teased. “Are you able to eat aboard?”

“Some. I try to ration my food. It is always dark below the deck and it is difficult to judge the time. I eat when I feel the hunger gnawing in my belly, but just enough to quell its rumblings.”

Reaching out, Gibbs felt the weight of DiNozzo’s pack. “You have rationed well. You should not fear running out. You must eat to keep up your strength for the journey home.”

“How much longer will it take?”

“A few more days at sea, depending on the winds, two or three days. Then about a week of traveling afoot in Scotland.”

“When I close my eyes, I feel I can see your land. There are rolling green hills and flocks of sheep.”

“You have been listening to McGee’s chatter.”

“McGee’s thoughts more often stray to Abby.”

“The ship does not sail until dawn and I can see you could use a good night’s sleep. Come.”

“Where?”

“I’ll get a room at the inn.”

“What about McGee?”

“He is young. Falling asleep on the deck of a ship is a rare treat for him. One he may never see again.”

“If I never see a ship again, it won’t break my heart.”

“You have no thought of returning to Rome?”

“There is nothing for me there.”

When they reached the inn, they found the room available had only one bed in it. Gibbs was not deterred in the least.

“Go ahead and rest,” Gibbs urged.

DiNozzo didn’t need to be told twice. After dropping his pack to the floor, he crawled into the bed atop the covers. Sleep claimed him as his head hit the pillow. Gibbs smiled as he carefully untied the laces of DiNozzo’s sandals, brushing away the mud that had dried. After fetching a towel and a bowl of water, Gibbs set about cleaning DiNozzo’s feet, legs and sandals. A mark around DiNozzo’s ankle bothered him.

Gibbs shook his head and frowned. The only thing he knew that caused such a mark was a metal cuff used to chain a slave. Once he had finished his task, Gibbs shed his own clothing and crawled into the other side of the bed, beneath the covers. When he turned, he saw DiNozzo was still soundly sleeping, his face turned toward Gibbs. 

Taking a few moments, Gibbs studied DiNozzo’s features, cupping his chin once again. “You are a good man, Anthony DiNozzo,” he said. A moment later he found himself pressing his lips against DiNozzo’s. Closing his eyes, he found himself remembering how sweet a kiss could be. It had been far too long since his lips had touched the lips of another.

A second kiss caused his heart to race. The third kiss sent heat to his cock, the same feeling he’d had the first time he had laid eyes on DiNozzo and had pressed his hands against DiNozzo’s skin, knowing that he had to possess this man who caused such feelings to stir within him.

Rolling onto his back, Gibbs willed his body to settle down. Taking another man was not the way he had been raised and he certainly would do nothing to another who was lost to sleep. Flicking out his tongue, Gibbs licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of DiNozzo’s lips upon his own.

Gibbs barely slept and awoke DiNozzo early. “We must get to the ship before it sails. I am pleased that you were able to sleep.”

Sitting up in bed, DiNozzo stretched out his arms with a yawn. “Best night of sleep I have had in many days. Thank you, Gibbs.”

“Come on, DiNozzo.”

The pair made their way to the dock, with DiNozzo turning off and heading into the cargo hold. Gibbs watched him go, before seeking out the First Mate and Captain.

“First you won’t allow him to travel as a freeman, but now I find out that you keep him chained below like a dog?”

“He must be chained. For his own safety if nothing else.”

“His safety?” questioned Gibbs.

“If not chained, who knows where he would find himself? He could easily get into the other cargo. What if he drank himself silly on whiskey? What if he made his way in with the stock aboard and was kicked in the head or trampled underfoot? What if he managed to loosen the ropes that keep the cargo bound and found himself at the bottom of several loose barrels or boxes? No, Gibbs, it is for his own safety as well as ours that he is chained. It will keep him out of trouble and will allow my men to find him when they need to.”

It stung Gibbs’ pride to lose this battle, but he saw there was no way to win it. He had only two choices. The first, he could take DiNozzo and McGee and leave this ship and await another then hope for a more reasonable Captain to allow DiNozzo to sail above deck. Or they could remain aboard the ship for the final two days and be happy to reach his native Scotland and leave the ship behind. 

Gibbs knew he was unlikely to get any of his money back from this Captain and was well aware that they could be sitting here for weeks before another ship came to port that was willing to take them over to Scotland, and even then it was as likely as not that DiNozzo would still be required to travel in the cargo hold and chained for the journey. Gibbs fingered the few coins left in his pocket, realizing he did not have enough to keep them fed and bedded down for more than a couple days.

McGee was at the bow of the ship, watching out over the ocean. Gibbs walked up behind him and placed an arm around his shoulder. “Did you get anything to eat this morning?”

“Where were you? I came back to the ship and no one had seen you or DiNozzo for hours, not since we all left together.”

“DiNozzo wasn’t feeling well. I allowed him to rest up. Now, did you get anything to eat?”

“One of the ladies gave me some of her cheese and milk.”

“Good. I hope you thanked her properly.”

“Of course.”

For the next two days, Gibbs watched over McGee and worried about DiNozzo. When the storms rolled in, Gibbs took McGee into the covered part of the upper deck and held onto him as the ship rocked on the choppy seas. When the rain subsided, they returned to the deck. 

Seeing Scotland again brought joy to Gibbs’ heart. When he pointed out the Scottish shore to McGee, he was half afraid the boy was going to jump over the railing in his excitement and swim ashore.

“I can’t wait to see everyone again,” McGee said eagerly. 

The regular passengers were allowed to go ashore first. Gibbs and McGee had to wait for a while before the crew began unloading the cargo. Eventually DiNozzo was brought out of the hold and released to Gibbs.

“What’s that on your leg?” Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo looked down at the redness of the swollen skin and the streak of blood trickling from his ankle. “Got bit.”

“By what?”

“A rat. I think it was after my food. I killed it though.”

“Does it hurt?” asked McGee.

“I barely even noticed it,” DiNozzo said as he looked into the sky and breathed in deeply. “So this is Scotland? Already a thousand fold better than the hold of a ship.”

“I should hope so.” Gibbs took another look at DiNozzo. He still seemed a little tired, but less than when he saw him in Ireland. “Are you able to walk?”

DiNozzo smiled weakly. “I’m fine, Gibbs. It’s nothing more than a scratch.”

Still concerned, Gibbs insisted on wrapping a cloth around the wound. Once he was satisfied, he asked, “Everyone ready to head home?”

Even though the sun was getting low in the sky, the trio decided to begin their trek rather than waiting another day. Once again, Gibbs led the way, having an almost instinctive knowledge of which roads led him home.

McGee followed behind, occasionally allowing his fingers to graze over Abby’s gift, hoping she would love it as much as DiNozzo and Gibbs said she would. DiNozzo brought up the rear, keeping an eye out for McGee. His stride was stiffer than he was used to, but he dismissed it as being caused by his days at sea.

On the fifth day, DiNozzo found it difficult to keep up as his breathing became more labored. Early in the afternoon, he collapsed onto the road, unable to get up. Leaning up onto his hands, he felt dizzy and his mouth felt dry. He wanted to call out, but the words stuck in his throat.

Gibbs had a good lead on the other two, using it to watch out for dangers ahead of them on the road. Then something tugged at his heart. He felt something wasn’t right. When he turned he saw McGee running, but in the opposite direction. Obviously something had happened to DiNozzo. 

Gibbs turned and ran as fast as he could. DiNozzo had fallen onto the road facedown, but McGee had already reached him and rolled him over, onto his back, before Gibbs arrived.

“DiNozzo!” he called.

“He is warm to the touch,” said McGee. “His forehead is damp.”

Gibbs reached out and touched DiNozzo’s face and neck. “I fear he has the fever. DiNozzo! Do you hear me?”

There was no response from DiNozzo, even when Gibbs slapped his face.

“McGee, he is ill. I need you to run to Ducky’s as fast as you can. Tell him I bring a man who is ill with the fever. Then I need you to bring horses back. He may die by the time I can carry him home. A horse will be faster. Can you find your way from here?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Remember the roads. There are signs that will point you to our town. You have to remember the way so you can bring back the horses. When you reach a fork in the road, be sure to mark it so you can remember on your way back. Tell Ducky I will head to my cottage and he can meet us there. Go!”

McGee took off running as hard as he could. It seemed he became winded far too quickly. He kept in his mind that he couldn’t allow himself to stop. If he stopped moving, DiNozzo could die. After taking a brief break, he resumed his task, slowing down to a steady jog that allowed him to keep going longer before needing a break. 

Gibbs hefted DiNozzo onto his shoulder and continued walking. He refused to take breaks even when the terrain became hilly. Some of the time DiNozzo was able to walk short distances, but Gibbs was ever concerned about his fever and his paleness. All he could think about was getting DiNozzo back to his home so Ducky could take care of him properly.

“I want to check the wound,” Gibbs said. When he pulled away the bandaging, he found the surrounding skin was redder and more swollen than before and the sore now oozed with puss. “This may hurt, but I must clean the wound.”

DiNozzo nodded and collapsed on the ground, while Gibbs used the cloth to wipe the wound, then poured a small amount of wine in an attempt to cleanse the infection.

DiNozzo tightened his grip on Gibbs’ arm and began to breath more rapidly.

“DiNozzo!”

“I’m fine. Fine.”

“Are you able to walk?”

“I’m tired, so tired. Need to sleep.”

Gibbs shook DiNozzo’s shoulder. “I can’t let you sleep. You have to get up. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.”

DiNozzo’s breathing became more erratic and he began to cough, then closed his eyes and settled back against the ground beneath him. “Just let me be, Gibbs. Just let me die.”

“You will not die,” Gibbs whispered into Dinozzo’s ear.

When DiNozzo failed to respond, Gibbs lightly smacked the top of his head to get his attention. When DiNozzo’s eyes opened, Gibbs pressed his lips against DiNozzo’s ear, slowly and firmly repeating his words, “You will not die. Understand?”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

Gibbs struggled to pull DiNozzo back onto his feet, pushing them further down the road, while Gibbs held most of DiNozzo’s weight. “I will carry you if I have to, but I will not leave you behind. I will not let you die,” he promised.

Before the sun set, Gibbs heard someone approaching. They heard horses, but it was a wagon, rather than riders. After settling DiNozzo down on the road, Gibbs brushed the hair from DiNozzo’s sweaty forehead and checked his injury. Long before the wagon was beside them, Gibbs saw that Ducky was driving it. McGee rode along side.

“He looks terrible,” McGee said as he dismounted. “Ducky was afraid he may be too ill to ride.”

“Good call, Duck,” said Gibbs. “Help me get him into the wagon.”

Both Ducky and McGee scrambled to help Gibbs lift the DiNozzo into the back of the wagon, which Abby had packed with quilts and blankets to soften the journey.

“Before we set off, I need to get a look at that wound,” Ducky said.

“There isn’t time,” replied Gibbs. “We have to get him home. Now!”

“I understand your concern, Gibbs, however, there is no need to rush him back to find we have brought home a corpse. Now, please, let me tend to his wound. I have brought a poultice and some tea to ease the pain and reduce the swelling and fever.”

Gibbs held his tongue while Ducky checked out the wound and began to treat DiNozzo. “McGee, ride on back ahead of us. Go on now. Have Abby start a fire at Gibbs’ cottage and put on a stew to cook. Hurry.”

After McGee was out of sight, Ducky pulled out some lengths of cloth. “I am not sure if he can pass this illness to us. We should take precautions.”

Gibbs followed Ducky’s example and tied the cloth over his mouth and nose, while Ducky did the same with another cloth, using a third to cover DiNozzo’s mouth and nose. With Ducky settled in the back of the wagon tending to DiNozzo, Gibbs started the horse out at a brisk trot, guiding him down the road to his own farm.

When Gibbs closed in on his own land, he pushed the horse into a canter, aiming to get DiNozzo out of the wagon and into bed as quickly as possible. Ducky had to grab hold of the side of the wagon to keep his balance.

“Jethro, it’s not going to help if you bounce the poor lad out of the wagon.”

Gibbs stopped the wagon as close to the door as he could, surprised to see McGee and Abby emerge from his cottage. Abby ran over to the edge of the wagon and peered in.

“Aww, Gibbs. He is adorable. What I can see of him anyway,” she said.

Blinking his eyes open, DiNozzo reached up, barely touching his fingertips to Abby’s chin. “Are you an angel?”

Taking DiNozzo’s hand in her own, Abby gave it a slight squeeze. “I’m Abby.”

“Abigail, keep your distance,” warned Ducky. “At least until we know what sort of infection he has. You two should be waiting back at home. My home.”

Hopping down from the driver’s seat, Gibbs raced to the rear of the wagon to help Ducky move DiNozzo into the house. “McGee! Unhitch the horse and walk him until he’s cool, then bed him down with some warmed oats.”

“On it, Gibbs.”

“Abby, see if you can find a length of black cloth and tie it near the road to warn people to stay away.”

Despite their concern, Abby wrapped her arms around Gibbs. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Abby! Go!”

Once inside, they found a blazing fire just starting to settle down into a slow burn. Ducky nodded to the floor close to the fire, where they settled DiNozzo down. 

“Try to make him comfortable, Jethro. I’ll go back to my place and see what I can come up with to heal the lad.”


	5. DiNozzo struggles through his illness.

A few days later, McGee asked Abby to take a walk with him. They found a spot where they could sit, watching over Gibbs’ cottage as they talked.

“I bought something for you while I was traveling,” McGee said. 

Even before seeing the gift, Abby threw her arms around McGee’s neck. “That’s so sweet! I can’t believe you were thinking of me while you were walking around in France!”

“I thought of little else.” McGee nodded toward the cottage. “DiNozzo helped me pick this out. I hope you like it,” he said as he handed over the present, still wrapped in cloth.

Abby’s eyes widened when she unwrapped the cloth and revealed the gift. “Oh, McGee! I love it!”

As she held the cross in one hand, she used her other hand to trace over it with her fingertips. It was crafted in metal and engraved with Celtic designs. At the center was an engraved heart. The cross hung from a leather strip. After she admired it for a few minutes, Abby placed it around her neck and hugged McGee once more. This time he gained the courage to press one hand against her back and brush a kiss against her cheek.

McGee nodded back towards the cottage. “Does Ducky think he’s going to make it?”

“I hope so, McGee. He said DiNozzo was lucky to have made it this far.”

“He’s strong.”

“He’s so handsome.”

“He told me tales from Rome.”

Abby took McGee’s hand into her own and scrambled to her feet, pulling him up along with her. “I know he’s going to survive this, McGee. We just have to wait a few more days and I know his fever will break and he will be fine.”

Inside the cottage, Gibbs showed no concern for his own health. His only thought was to be there for DiNozzo. McGee and Abby helped the best they could, mostly by hauling water in buckets and leaving them near the cottage. Abby also helped with some cooking, bringing food and bread and leaving it outside the cottage. Ducky stopped by daily to see how DiNozzo was faring. 

Gibbs soon grew tired of covering his nose and mouth with a cloth and began only bothering with it when Ducky was around. He slept very little and spent his time at DiNozzo’s side, caring for him and watching over him.

“It’s not healthy for you to be in here with him all the time,” Ducky sternly advised him one day as he wiped DiNozzo’s fevered brow. “You could easily catch what he has and face the same fate.”

“And what fate might that be, Ducky?”

“Illness, my boy and perhaps death. I’m fairly certain the lad has caught a plague most likely carried by the rat that bit him.”

“Are you saying he’s going to die?”

“I said nothing of the sort. He may die. I will do what I can to make him comfortable, but it’s out of my hands.”

“He is not going to die, Ducky. I won’t let him.”

Ducky smiled at Gibbs’ strong conviction. “Jethro, go outside. Find something else to occupy your hands and your mind. Let the poor lad have a break from your constant hovering over him.”

“I want to help him.”

“Then go outside and let him be. How can he relax with you fretting over him every moment of the day?”

When Ducky left, he noticed that Gibbs was arranging several pieces of wood and organizing his tools. It had been a while since Gibbs had taken on one of his carpentry projects. Ducky was sure it was just the thing he needed to keep his mind off of DiNozzo for a while.

DiNozzo tossed restlessly, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes it was difficult for him to determine whether he was awake or dreaming. The worse his fever became, the more wood Gibbs threw on the fire and the more blankets and quilts he piled on top of DiNozzo.

Gibbs spent hours outside sawing and pounding wooden planks together. He had a plan in his head and had a knack for designing things that he could build alone with no drawn plans. Somehow he managed to keep the entire puzzle of his design so well organized in his mind that no detail was missed and each piece fit perfectly into its place.

One day when Ducky was visiting, DiNozzo ventured to ask, “What’s he building out there? A funeral pyre?”

The question took Ducky by surprise. “Oh heavens no, laddy. I do believe it’s a boat.”

“A boat?”

“Aye. That’s what it appears to be.”

“Are we anywhere near the ocean?”

“Not at all. Days away.”

“Lake?”

“Not really.”

“Then why is he building a boat?”

Ducky stared thoughtfully for a moment before he answered. “I haven’t the foggiest notion.”

“Do you know about the red arrow he had?”

Ducky immediately raised his head, eyeing Gibbs’ bow and quiver across the room. “Ah, yes. The one dipped in poison. That explains what Gibbs was up to.”

“What? He was with us, then left for a few days. When he returned, he was riding hard. We left everything behind except for the food and the weapons. He never said where he had gone or what he was doing. He had the red arrow when he left. It wasn’t with him when he returned.”

“Revenge is what he was up to, my lad. Revenge.”

“This has something to do with Shannon, doesn’t it?”

“He told you about Shannon?”

“No. McGee told me about Shannon and Kelly and how they were killed while Gibbs was on the battlefield.”

“Gibbs was absolutely devastated. He swore revenge. If nothing else, Gibbs is a man of his word. I am not surprised at all.”

“He knew who killed them? All this time?”

“Perhaps not the actual man who slit their throats, but he certainly knew who gave the order. It was one of the Lords from Espania.”

DiNozzo nodded slowly as he turned the thoughts over in his mind. “How did he get in? How could he get close enough to kill someone of such power?”

“Gibbs is a fabulous shot and an expert in stalking. He can move without being heard or seen. Not that he needs to be that close. If he had a clear shot for his target, he could be quite a distance away and still hit his mark.”

“He’s that good?”

“Yes, actually, he is.”

“Remind me not to piss him off.”

Ducky smiled and patted DiNozzo’s arm. “It’s good you’re feeling better. When you’re up to it, it wouldn’t hurt for you to go outside and get some fresh air. How has your appetite been?”

“Getting a little better every day.”

“That is good. You may pull through this nasty illness yet.”

“I hope so, Ducky. I finally feel like I’m free from my father’s hold and free of the army.”

“And from being enslaved.”

“How did you know?”

“The mark on your neck.”

“Gibbs said people here wouldn’t know what it meant.”

“Not many would and no one here will judge you for it. Or Gibbs for bringing you here and setting you free. He is an honorable man and a great judge of character.”

“I am fortunate that he is the one who purchased me.”

“He must see good things in you, Anthony. He would never have brought you home otherwise. The fact that he brought you home with him speaks volumes about your character. Now, get some rest and get some fresh air when you can manage. I will see you again tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Ducky.”

After the days he spent inside, spending some time outside sounded better to DiNozzo the more he thought about it. Wrapping a blanket around himself, he gathered his strength and ventured out the door barefooted. The sun was bright to his eyes and the air was cool and clean. DiNozzo walked a short way, then sat down to watch Gibbs working on his boat.

“That’s not for my funeral, I hope,” he said.

Gibbs smiled. “Not hardly.”

“I’ve heard of dead bodies being set afire and set sail in a boat.”

Gibbs looked up into the sky, then over to DiNozzo. “Nowhere to sail a boat around here.”

“Then why build one?”

“Do you have permission from Ducky to be out here?”

“Yes, actually. He said the fresh air would do me good. He said I may be on my way to getting better.”

“Good to hear.”

“The boat?”

“I like boats. I like working with my hands.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“When it’s finished, I will show you. In the meantime, if you’re planning to spend time out here, maybe I should build a fire to keep you warm.”

“Fever does a fine job of that. Keeping me warm, that is.”

Despite DiNozzo’s insistence that a fire was not needed, Gibbs set about moving rocks to a clearing, then building a fire within the ring of stones. When most of the smoke had dissipated, he motioned DiNozzo closer and got him settled. “There. You can get fresh air, stay warm and I can keep an eye on you.”

“And I can keep an eye on you,” teased DiNozzo. 

“You keeping an eye on me? What sort of trouble can I get into?”

“The sort of trouble you think a poisoned arrow can resolve.”

The smile quickly faded from Gibbs’ face. Turning away from DiNozzo, he headed back to work on his boat. 

DiNozzo spent his time watching and studying Gibbs and taking naps beneath the sun. There were times his cough awoke him and earned him a look of concern from Gibbs. Once he woke up to find Gibbs had brought out another blanket and a couple of quilts to help keep him warm and more comfortable, along with a small keg of ale and a loaf of bread.

Later in the afternoon, Abby and McGee approached bearing a meal Abby had prepared. They saw the fire with DiNozzo sleeping nearby, but headed over to Gibbs first.

“How’s he doing?” McGee asked.

“Said he felt a little better and that Ducky told him fresh air would do him good. He doesn’t sound much better, though. Still coughing and having trouble breathing. I don’t like the pallor of his skin.”

Abby glanced over to the cottage and noticed the door and all the windows wide open. “Airing out the cottage, I see. Good idea, Gibbs.”

“I haven’t been sleeping in there, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Gibbs as he set down his tools. “I’ve been sleeping out in the barn and checking on him throughout the night.”

Abby nodded and twirled her parasol. “He’s going to be fine, Gibbs. I just know it.”

Gibbs took a step closer to Abby and planted a kiss against her cheek then turned back to McGee. “I was thinking about letting him sleep out here by the fire tonight. It would almost be like old times.”

McGee chuckled appreciatively. “Yeah. I kind of miss talking to him across the campfire.”

“He hasn’t been talking much,” disclosed Gibbs. “He sleeps a lot, but the coughing wakes him up.”

Abby threaded her arm through McGee’s and tugged gently. “What he needs is a good hearty meal. Come on, Timmy.”

“Abby, not too close,” warned Gibbs.

Ignoring Gibbs’ advice, Abby walked over to where DiNozzo was sleeping and ran her gloved fingers through his hair. After a few moments, his eyes flickered open and he stared up at her.

“Angel?” he asked.

“Abby,” she replied with a smile. “I’m Abby.”

“Abby? You’re every bit as beautiful as McGee said you were.” DiNozzo struggled to sit up and get a good look at Abby. “The way McGee talks, I never would have thought to find ladies wearing long lace gloves and carrying parasols here.”

Twirling her parasol, she replied, “Not everyone. Only me. I don’t like the sun darkening my skin. It sort of freaks me out. And the lady who brought me over here had spent time in Paris and London. These were her things until she died. No one else had a use for them.”

“They’re very becoming on you.”

“Thank you. Gibbs said you were feeling better. Are you?”

“It comes and goes. Ducky thought a bit of fresh air might be good for me.”

“Probably. Being cooped up in the cottage with all the doors and windows closed up can’t be a good thing. As soon as you start kicking the illness, it comes back to you again. I have some cleansing solutions I’ve created. I’ll bring some tomorrow and get the cottage all cleared out.”

“McGee said you were really smart.”

McGee blushed and dropped his eyes to the ground when Abby smiled his way. “Timmy has said plenty of nice things about you as well. Can I call you Anthony?”

“Sure. Anthony or Tony.” As the words left him, DiNozzo was plagued with another coughing fit. 

Abby quickly rushed to his side, helping to steady him, then used her handkerchief to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Do you cough up blood often?”

“Just sometimes.”

“I brought you some dinner.”

“I’m not sure I could eat just now.” Closing his eyes, DiNozzo allowed his body to lay back down. “Tired.”

“You rest up, Tony, but I want you to eat before it gets dark out. You need to eat to keep up your strength and kick this thing.”

“Thanks, Abby,” he said quietly.

Abby remained near DiNozzo’s side for a few minutes while he drifted into a fitful sleep. She then marched over to where Gibbs was working on his boat. “Gibbs!”

“Yes, Abby.”

“You better take care of Tony. I know how you can get wrapped up in your carpentry projects, but he’s a living, breathing person over there, Gibbs. And I expect you to keep him that way.”

Gibbs smiled at her seriousness. “Yes, Abby. That was my plan all along.”

Abby’s stern mood soon melted and she ran to Gibbs, throwing her arms around his neck. “I don’t want him to die, Gibbs. Timmy has told me such wonderful stories about him. I want him to get well and be part of our lives.”

“Me, too, Abs. Me, too.”

“He’s coughing up blood. That’s not good.”

“It happens from time to time. I do my best to keep him warm. Ducky was a little concerned about him being cooped up in the cottage all the time and he does seem to enjoy being outside.”

“Watch him, Gibbs. Please watch him. In fact, Tim, I want you to stay here with Gibbs and Tony. That way, if something happens, you can run to get Ducky and Gibbs can stay with Tony instead of leaving him alone.”

“Abby, my mother is expecting me for dinner,” McGee said.

“There’s enough food for you here. I will go see your mother and explain it to her. She and Sarah did just fine while you were off traveling with Gibbs. Tony needs you, so you are going to stay here with him.”

“How about if I escort you home then see my mother and pick up some things and then come back here?”

Abby chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “You better be back here before dark.”

After putting his tools away, Gibbs made his way to DiNozzo’s side, watching over him as he slept. As the sun started its descent, Gibbs headed to the house to retrieve some bowls, spoons and mugs.

“I’m not really hungry, Gibbs,” said DiNozzo.

“You have to eat. You have to keep your strength up.”

“Abby said the same thing.”

“She’s a smart girl.”

“And just as pretty as McGee said.”

“Try to eat a wee bit.”

DiNozzo struggled to sit upright and accepted a bowl and spoon from Gibbs. “Just a little bit.”

“Plenty here. If you want more, just say the word.”

“Why are you building a boat out here, so far from the ocean?”

“Keeping my hands busy.”

“It is for me, isn’t it? For a funeral pyre when I die?”

“Not at all. I told you that before. And you’re not going to die. You told me earlier today you were feeling better.”

“Yeah? Well, that seems like a long time ago.”

“Get some rest. It’s the best thing for you.”

The sun was beginning to settle at the horizon when McGee returned. He found Gibbs sitting near the fire, cradling DiNozzo’s head in his lap, gently stroking his hair.

“I made it back,” McGee said. “I told my mother what was going on.”

Gibbs looked up at him. “You can sleep in the barn. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”

“I brought my bedroll. I can stay out here with you.”

“I don’t want you to get sick, McGee.”

“Why do you think I’d be more likely to get sick than you? You’re right beside him.”

“Tim, you can’t risk catching it and taking it back to your mother and your sister.”

Undeterred, McGee started to settle his bedroll across the fire from Gibbs and DiNozzo. “I’ll be all the way over here, across the fire. It’s like a protective barrier. I’m quite certain of that.”

“Really, McGee?”

“I spent many nights sleeping across the fire from DiNozzo. I’ll be fine.”

For the next few days, Gibbs and McGee took turns watching over DiNozzo. Ducky faithfully made his rounds in the morning and Abby brought food over in the middle of the day. There were days when DiNozzo seemed to perk up and others when he could do little more than lay beneath his covers, struggling to breathe.

True to her word, Abby came over to clean out the cottage. DiNozzo watched as McGee insisted on helping her, especially when it came to moving Gibbs’ large pieces of wooden furniture. 

Later in the day, DiNozzo ambled over to watch Gibbs work on his boat. At first he’d been working on it upside-down, but had now righted it. Gibbs remained focused on his work as he put posts and planks in place, along with pulleys and ropes as DiNozzo looked on. 

One day Gibbs watched the sky as he worked. Dark clouds appeared in the distance before drifting ever closer to them.

“DiNozzo! You need to go inside.”

“I rather be outside. With you.”

“There's a bad storm is rolling in.”

“Well, if it rains hard enough and long enough then building a boat is going to look like true brilliance.”

Gibbs smiled broadly as he laid down his hammer. “Why don’t you come aboard and I’ll show you the brilliance of the boat,” suggested Gibbs, his hand outstretched.

Still wrapped in a blanket, DiNozzo stepped forward to the ladder Gibbs had propped against the boat then reached for Gibbs’ hand. Once on board, DiNozzo admired the craftsmanship as Gibbs pulled the ladder in with them. After Gibbs spent a few minutes tugging at various ropes, DiNozzo felt the boat moving, gently swaying in the growing wind. 

With the mast set and the rain beginning to drizzle, DiNozzo smiled back at Gibbs. “Just like being at sea.”

“Yeah, DiNozzo. That was kind of the point. Come over here and get out of the rain.”

DiNozzo followed Gibbs into a covered area where they sat down, leaning back where they could still see the rain coming down, but remained dry. Gibbs wrapped an arm around DiNozzo’s shoulder.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” replied DiNozzo as he settled his weight back and resting his head on Gibbs’ shoulder.

“I can’t build a fire on the boat. If you get too cold, let me know. We can go back inside.”

“I like it here, Gibbs.”

As the wind grew stronger, the boat swayed, pulling at the ropes and rolling as they moved through the pulley system Gibbs had created. The pair listened as the rain fell harder. When the wind blew colder, DiNozzo shifted, rolling closer, his chest pressed against Gibbs and his right leg snuggling between Gibbs’ legs. 

“When you left us in Europe, where did you go?”

“Does it matter?” replied Gibbs as he began stroking DiNozzo’s hair.

“Ducky said you were up to revenge.”

DiNozzo felt Gibbs’ body tensing beneath his.

“It was nothing of concern to you.”

“I care for you, Gibbs. I just want to know more about you. I want to understand you. You went to kill the man who killed your family, didn’t you?”

“I killed the man who gave the order. Yes. The ones who actually killed our families, we tracked them down, followed them. When we caught up to them, we killed them, just as they killed those we loved. We vowed not to rest until they were all dead. But they were only soldiers following orders. I knew I would never feel peace in my heart until the man who gave the order was dead.”

DiNozzo held onto Gibbs tightly. “Have you found peace, then?”

After brushing a kiss against DiNozzo’s head, Gibbs answered softly, “Working on it.”


	6. DiNozzo regains his strength as his relationship with Gibbs becomes closer.

Although DiNozzo preferred staying on the boat while Gibbs worked nearby, Gibbs finally moved him back into the cottage as the nights grew colder. He allowed DiNozzo to wander during the day, but insisted he sleep in the cottage near the warmth of the fire at night. When DiNozzo seemed better McGee returned to his family farm, visiting every few days along with Abby.

Early one morning, DiNozzo awoke to the sound of voices carried on the wind. When he looked out of the cottage, he saw Gibbs talking to a man atop a horse a few feet away. DiNozzo couldn’t quite make out the words, especially when the rain began to fall. Watching the exchange, he studied Gibbs’ stance and the other man’s facial expressions. Gibbs watched the other man ride away, then turned around to see DiNozzo watching him from the cottage doorway.

“Who was that?” DiNozzo asked, once Gibbs was close enough to hear him.

Gibbs didn’t answer until he reached the cottage and pushed by DiNozzo. “That was Fornell. He said there was a meeting of the men in the village last night. A soldier had ridden into the village yesterday with a message asking for our help in battle.”

“You’re leaving?”

Pausing, Gibbs looked directly into DiNozzo’s eyes. “No.”

“I heard you arguing. I heard the tone, but not the words.”

Gibbs reached for a jug of ale and drank deeply. “I told him I would not leave you and that you suffered from the plague and I may as well. I told him to keep his distance.”

“Gibbs, I am getting better and you have never shown signs of illness.”

“I’m not going to leave you, DiNozzo.”

“I will go with you.”

“You are getting better, but your strength has not fully returned. All we would need is for you to get other soldiers sick and killed in their weakened state.”

DiNozzo nodded, accepting Gibbs’ words. “If you are staying, then perhaps you should shed your clothing. You’re dripping rainwater all about the cottage.”

Gibbs finally cracked a smile as he began peeling off his clothing. “Another glorious day in Scotland.”

After laying out his clothes on the backs of the chairs, Gibbs brought his boots to the hearth and settled them upside down. DiNozzo wrapped a dry blanket around Gibbs’ shoulders, then pulled him into an embrace, rubbing his hands up and down Gibbs’ back. Gibbs used one arm to steady himself, while placing his other hand on the back of DiNozzo’s head, pressing him close, Gibbs’ lips against DiNozzo’s ear.

“I will not leave you again,” Gibbs assured him softly.

DiNozzo slowly allowed his tongue to lick along Gibbs’ neck, catching a few wayward droplets of rainwater dripping from Gibbs’ hair. “You’re freezing,” he said, reaching for Gibbs’ hand. “You should lie down by the fireplace.”

Gibbs nodded his approval and allowed DiNozzo to lead him to the pile of bedding. When the pair laid down, DiNozzo continued rubbing his hands across Gibbs’ bare skin, noticing the scars from old battle wounds, tracing over each line with his fingertips. Gibbs closed his eyes and enjoyed the massage. When he was fully relaxed, DiNozzo took a chance and lightly placed his lips against Gibbs’ skin and waited for the reaction. At first, Gibbs didn’t seem to take any notice, so DiNozzo allowed his efforts to drop further down Gibbs’ body.

When DiNozzo’s hands reached Gibbs’ hips and his breath began to rustle through the hair closest to Gibbs’ cock, Gibbs suddenly grabbed DiNozzo’s wrists. 

“What are you doing?” he asked softly.

“What I want to do,” DiNozzo said simply. After a few moments, he rested his cheek against Gibbs’ skin and added, “What I need to do. What I’ve waited to do. For so long.”

“Waited?”

“I wanted you to take me, Gibbs, that first night. When I entered your sleeping tent, I wanted to be with you. I wasn’t sure why you sent me away. Since then, it’s been like a hunger growing inside of me. I waited for you to take me. I’ve waited for you to want me, to need me, like I need you.”

“You don’t need me for anything, DiNozzo. You’re a free man. You have choices.”

“I have yearnings. Even when they first led me to you, the traders, I felt it. I felt something pulling me toward you.” 

“What about McGee? He’s young. Inexperienced.”

“He is a child. He lacks the strength of a man, the strength I see in you and feel in your touch. Your hands, your touch, they utter no sound yet they speak of your experience.” DiNozzo took one of Gibbs’ hands into his own, rubbing his thumb across Gibbs’ palm. Bringing it closer, he kissed the palm, then pressed to his cheek. “I want to be yours, Gibbs. Do you want me?”

Gibbs studied DiNozzo’s eyes and found only truth in them. For all his strength and independence, DiNozzo wanted to belong, he wanted to be loved. Gibbs’ nodded slowly, his voice a bare whisper, “Yes, I want you.”

DiNozzo sat up and rocked back onto his heels, his eyes on Gibbs as he peeled off his tunic, exposing his chest. Gibbs watched, then reached over to touch, studying DiNozzo’s body the way he had when he purchased him. His hands slid easily across DiNozzo’s skin, feeling the muscles, the warmth and the slight curves. He noticed where his touches brought gasps of ecstasy and where they seemed to tickle, causing DiNozzo to squirm and giggle.

Taking DiNozzo’s wrists into his hands, Gibbs smiled and pulled the other man down, onto the bedding beside him, then he rolled on top of him and claimed DiNozzo’s mouth with his own.

Using his knees, Gibbs pushed DiNozzo’s legs apart, reaching down with one hand to massage DiNozzo’s muscular thigh as he thought of all the marching DiNozzo had done with the Roman army. He relished the strength in the body beneath him, knowing it was being given to him willingly, rather than being taken as a slave by a master.

“Always wanted you,” Gibbs whispered into DiNozzo’s ear. “But not as a slave, not as a slave.”

“You’ve captured my heart, Gibbs, as a lover. Please, I need you to take me, make me feel whole again.”

Using his hands, Gibbs explored DiNozzo’s body, feeling the warmth and dampness of his skin. With gentle caresses, he drew moans of pleasure from DiNozzo’s lips, then kissed him deeply, noticing how his heart rate increased, along with his breathing. 

When Gibbs rose, he left a final kiss on DiNozzo’s chin before rising to his feet. DiNozzo grabbed for his hand, his eyes pleading with Gibbs not to go.

Gibbs gave DiNozzo’s hand a firm squeeze as he promised, “I’ll be right back.”

DiNozzo watched as Gibbs strode across the room with determination. After poking around a bit he found what he was looking for and soon returned to DiNozzo’s side bearing a small bowl. 

“It will make it easier,” he said. Using the tip of his finger, he tilted DiNozzo’s head up and kissed him.

Dipping his fingers into the bowl, Gibbs coated his them with oil, then rubbed his cock until it was slick and hard. DiNozzo watched as Gibbs worked his fingers over his cock in swift strokes. “Don’t worry, you’re next,” Gibbs promised. “That is, if you’re sure you’re feeling up to this.”

DiNozzo was relaxed, resting comfortably on the bedding. “Oh yes, I’m more than ready.”

“On your hands and knees, then.”

“I want to watch you.”

“Not tonight. This will be easier.”

“But I’m used to it,” pleaded DiNozzo. 

Gibbs stared him down, not budging an inch until DiNozzo did as he was told and rolled onto his hands and knees. Taking his time, Gibbs slowly massaged DiNozzo’s back until he heard the younger man sigh deeply as he relaxed. Gibbs began working his hands back to DiNozzo’s hips, as he felt DiNozzo shifting slightly, until his head was resting on his forearms, his knees still supporting his ass as he pressed back into Gibbs’ touch.

When DiNozzo felt Gibbs’ hands on this rounded butt cheeks, he moaned salaciously as he ground back against the touch. As Gibbs continued to slowly knead his ass, DiNozzo mewled and began to pant. 

Finally satisfied, Gibbs pushed DiNozzo’s cheeks apart and ran a well-oiled finger tip the length of his crack, pausing at his hole to tease his lover with gentle pressure. 

DiNozzo could feel the rush of heat surging through his own cock and tried to balance his weight onto one arm, so he could pump his cock with his other hand. Reaching around DiNozzo’s belly, Gibbs pushed the hand away. “We’ll have none of that.”

“I need you now,” pleaded DiNozzo. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes, you can. Let it build. It will be better, I promise.”

DiNozzo softly whined in protest, but laced his fingers together in an attempt to remove the temptation to jack himself off. Gibbs allowed a rare smile to break as he continued teasing DiNozzo with a single finger. Leaning over further, Gibbs nuzzled DiNozzo’s skin, nipping lightly as he shifted himself. 

After wrapping one arm around DiNozzo’s belly, Gibbs used his free hand to position his cock against DiNozzo’s hole. He could tell his lover was ready and he pressed in slowly, allowing his oiled cock to slide in deeply before pulling back again.

Beneath him, DiNozzo shifted his knees further apart as he moaned his approval. Gibbs pressed his hands against DiNozzo’s hips as he repeatedly thrust inward. Sensing he was close, he reached one hand down and grasped DiNozzo’s cock, giving it a few quick pumps before his own ejaculation triggered DiNozzo’s climax. 

Moments later, Gibbs pulled out and flopped onto the bedding beside DiNozzo. It wasn’t long before the younger man was snuggling against the warmth of Gibbs’ body as Gibbs slowly stroked his hair. “Good?” Gibbs asked.

“Very good,” muttered DiNozzo as he pressed his head against Gibbs’ neck.

“This is your home now,” Gibbs rambled, his fingers still toying through DiNozzo’s locks as he stared up at the ceiling. “My relationships are mutual, exclusive. I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Understand.”

“Yes.”

“Can you live with that?”

Opening his eyes, DiNozzo grinned up at Gibbs. “Yes,” he said as he wrapped one arm across Gibbs’ chest. “I am yours and yours alone. I want no one else.”

Gibbs smiled and released a satisfied sigh.

“Gibbs?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I call you Jethro?”

“If you would like.”

“Gibbs sounds kind of formal when we’re together, like this.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah, Jethro?”

“I love you.”

DiNozzo allowed his eyes to close as he relaxed fully. “I love you, Jethro. Tomorrow you can teach me how to farm. Being sick has left me feeling like a useless burden.”

Gibbs kissed DiNozzo’s forehead. “You are no burden to me. I am happy to watch over you and protect you. It pleases me to have you in my home.”

Over the next few days, Gibbs and DiNozzo spent their time working or relaxing on Gibbs’ boat. DiNozzo quickly learned how to care for the animals and how to feed them. Gibbs also took him for long walks through the fields explaining what was planted where and when. 

Each day found DiNozzo eventually chasing and wrestling Gibbs to the ground or allowing himself to be chased back into the cottage only to be brought down onto the bedding pile by the hearth. Their days always ended with a lovemaking session before the fire.

One morning, the sound of the door opening woke Gibbs. In an instant he was on his feet, his sword in his hand. When a familiar face was revealed, he smiled and set his sword back against the wall. “Ducky! You surprised me.”

Ducky’s eyes took in Gibbs’ naked figure and the obvious lump tangled into the bedding near the fireplace. “Oh my,” he said. “How awkward is this? I merely thought to stop by and look in on Anthony as I hadn’t seen the two of you for a few days.”

“Anthony is fine,” Gibbs assured his friend. “Please stay, I’ll get us some ale,” Gibbs said as he tugged on his tunic.

Ducky eyed the wet stain on the bedding near DiNozzo’s waist. “I see his strength has returned.”

Gibbs smiled as he placed two mugs on the table and filled them. “I think he has pulled through his illness.”

“I would still like to have a look at him.”

“As soon as he wakes, you will. But I assure you, he looks amazing.”

“I was speaking purely from medical curiosity.”

“I know that, Duck. How’s Abby?”

“She is doing well. She is a whirlwind of activity studying and caring for the animals. She misses McGee like before, but now she frets about him each day.”

“Misses McGee? Where has the boy gone?”

A look of surprise overtook Ducky’s expression. “Fornell came by looking for soldiers. McGee went off with him. I thought you knew. I thought perhaps you had gone as well, but I could see the smoke of your fireplace each day and knew you would not have left DiNozzo here alone. I should have checked on you earlier, Jethro.”

“Check out DiNozzo. If he is well enough to ride, we will go after McGee.”

“I am certain Fornell will watch out for the lad in your absence.”

“Ducky, this is war. They are fighting for their lives out there and for our lifestyle, our land, our lives. Fornell can’t watch over McGee every moment on the battlefield. That is how I lost Donald. I certainly do not want to tell Viv her son has died as well. DiNozzo! Wake up!” urged Gibbs as he shook DiNozzo’s shoulder.

DiNozzo rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I’m awake. What’s going on?” 

“Get up. Ducky’s here to check you out.”

DiNozzo rose and stretched, taking no notice of his own nudity as he scratched his belly. “Morning, Ducky.”

“Good morning, Anthony. Let me get a good look at you.”

A short snort escaped Gibbs as he prepared the morning meal. “Looks like you have the full view.”

“I could put on my tunic,” DiNozzo offered.

Ducky chuckled and set about inspecting his patient. “Never mind, laddy, I’ve seen just about every soul in the county in this same state at one time or another.”

After several minutes of poking and prodding, Ducky seemed satisfied. “He is much improved.”

“I told you he was fine, Duck.”

“His lungs still sound a bit rough. His breathing is more labored than one who has not suffered from the plague. He may returned to his normal activities, however, be aware that it is likely he will always suffer more respiratory stress than those who have not suffered a similar illness.”

“Can he ride into battle or not?” asked Gibbs.

“He is about as healthy as he will ever be, Jethro. All I am saying is he may suffer from shortness of breath or other breathing disorders during times of excelled activities.”

“Such as?”

“Fighting on a battlefield, long marches, over exerting himself physically. He may be at a disadvantage in such things as hand to hand combat if his opponent is able to breathe normally while Anthony is struggling to get air into his lungs. You will need to watch over him, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded in agreement. “I plan to. I will keep him safe and we will go find McGee and will bring him home safe as well.”

“I wish you both a swift journey and a safe return.”

“You will see us again. All of us. I’ll bring them home,” said Gibbs as his eyes met with DiNozzo’s.


	7. Gibbs and DiNozzo go in search of McGee.

Ducky gathered together foodstuffs from Gibbs’ stores while Gibbs gathered together clothing and weaponry. He had much to choose from as he often brought back swords and daggers left on the field by slain enemy troops. He had more than enough to outfit himself and DiNozzo. 

Following Gibbs’ orders, DiNozzo made his way to the small paddock behind the barn and caught the horses Gibbs had told him to then led them back to the barn where he fed them, brushed them and tacked them up before leading them toward the cottage.

Ducky said a few words to Gibbs just before they rode away, but his voice was too low and the wind too brisk for DiNozzo to make out what was said. Gibbs had nodded, smiled back then reined his horse onto the path leading down to the road.

Within three days of riding, Gibbs and DiNozzo located the group of men they were seeking. They were battle weary and had suffered many casualties. The men were strewn along the area, grouped in small bands here and there. Gibbs rode into each camp searching for Fornell and McGee. He was told stories of the fighting and, the last anyone had seen, neither of the men he sought had more than minor injuries. The pair continued their search.

The sun had begun to settle at the horizon when they found the camp where Fornell was staying. One of his arms had suffered a deep wound. Gibbs dismounted quickly, leaving DiNozzo to care for the horses.

“Tobias!” he said as he approached the fire pit.

“Jethro! You came to join the battle? Sad to say you’re a wee bit too late to do much good.”

“Too late?”

“Aye. When we first met them in battle their numbers were few and we fought them back easily. Then each day brought them more reinforcements. We grew tired, weary of battle, yet the enemy had men fresh and ready to fight. We began to suffer many losses and casualties. Then one day a single rider brought a message to them. Apparently they were called to return to England.”

“They’re all gone?”

“For now.”

“What of McGee?” asked Gibbs, his eyes still searching the faces in the camp.

“He fought well for a lad his age. You should be proud of him Gibbs, as would Donald. The lad is smart. He can anticipate what his opponent will do. His heart is good and his will is strong. On the battlefield, he is free of fear and focused on the fighting.”

“Tobias, where is he? Is he all right? Was he injured?”

Fornell looked away from Gibbs, waving his hand through the air as he stared up at the first stars appearing in the sky. “We think he was taken.”

“Taken? What do you mean, taken?”

Once again Fornell’s eyes settled onto Gibbs’. He shifted uncomfortably. “The last few days of fighting were the worst. We were outnumbered and I couldn’t keep track of him. When I did catch a glimpse, he seemed to be holding his own. When the enemy retreated, they took some of our captured soldiers. We did not find McGee after the battle. Not him, nor his body. The English have taken him away, Jethro.”

“What the hell for?”

“The ones they took were young and healthy. They executed the others they had captured. The bodies were left at their base camp, burning,” Fornell said as he nodded toward the smoky plume in the distance. “We searched, the younger men are all missing. Apparently the English feel they can persuade them to fight for them in other battles, or they have taken them for slaves.”

“Which way did they go?”

“Jethro! You can not follow them. There is nothing you can do against an army of their numbers!”

“Which way?”

“There are far too many. You won’t get far. Even if you find them, then what? They’ll kill you and McGee will still be a slave.”

Gibbs remained silent, but glared at Fornell through the flames of the fire pit.

“They were headed south last I saw. Many men, lots of tracks. You should have no problem following their trail.”

Gibbs rose to his feet and patted Fornell’s shoulder. “Mend well, my friend.”

“Take care of your hide, my friend.”

“Let’s ride, DiNozzo.”

“It’s dark out.”

“Yeah? I think that’s why they call it night,” said Gibbs as he mounted his horse.

DiNozzo looked back at Fornell resting by the fire and wished they would have stayed long enough to eat a hot meal and warm up, but that was not Gibbs’ way. Once he had something fixed in his mind, he went after it wholeheartedly. Pressing his heels to his horse’s sides, DiNozzo reined his mount to follow Gibbs into the darkness.

~*~*~*~

When McGee closed his eyes, he could see the battle. At first it seemed easy. His training kicked in and they had their enemy outnumbered. It gave him and the other younger men the time and confidence needed to perfect their fighting techniques. They learned quickly on the field, as mistakes led to painful wounds. Having the greater number of soldiers gave them the ability to drop back and rest when they grew tired, allowing them to rejoin the fighting once they were rested.

As the days marched on, the enemy troops seemed to grow until the Scottish troops found themselves outnumbered and battle weary. McGee learned what it was to fight all day with no time for rest or food. When the sun set, they dragged themselves back to their encampments, tired, hungry, dirty and often wounded. Sleep came fast. McGee would fall asleep and awaken to find his wounds had been bandaged. Then he would struggle to the fire with his cup, scooping out a bit of food to warm him and satisfy his hunger.

Those too injured to fight were urged to move away from the battlefield as far as they could manage. The more experienced soldiers knew their enemy was pushing them back. Any wounded man who found himself behind enemy lines would surely be killed or captured.

Being forced back by the enemy was hardest on the younger men who sought victory in their first battle. It was disheartening to find themselves retreating back and fighting for their very survival.

McGee did his best to keep Fornell in his sight, but sometimes the fighting grew so fierce, he could do nothing more than fight to protect himself. At times he lost track of Fornell for hours, but found himself reassured each night when he followed the weary troops to their newest encampment and always found Fornell there early in the morning, discussing tactics with the other older soldiers.

One day when the sun was high above the battlegrounds, McGee found himself in the midst of the most intense fighting. The enemy had horsemen who appeared to be singling out the younger Scotsmen, separating them from the others until a small group found themselves completely surrounded by enemy soldiers, unable to see any from their own side. Exhausted and wounded, one by one, they laid down their weapons and fell to their knees in surrender. 

McGee struggled with his decision. Although he didn’t want to surrender, he also didn’t want to die. Despite the warnings from Fornell and others, that being captured was a worse fate than death, McGee finally dropped his sword to the ground and fell onto his knees, placing his hands on his head, like the others around him. 

The horsemen spoke amongst themselves, guarding over their captives until several foot soldiers arrived, binding their captives’ hands and marching them back to the enemy camp. Once there, their feet were also bound and each captive was tied to the one next to him. No one would be able to escape on their own. Their wounds were treated then they sat and waited as the enemy soldiers watched over them, yelling if they moved at all.

McGee slept restlessly through the night. Hearing moans of the injured and dying was unsettling to him, and his captors had offered him neither food nor water. He watched as one of the other young soldier’s attempted to chew through the ropes that bound his wrists until one of their guards spotted him and struck him hard across the face. The lad fell and moved no more.

When the sun rose, the captives were urged to their feet. A few enemy soldiers walked before them, studying them. They chatted amongst themselves then one seemed to make a decision. Some of the captured soldiers were led a few feet away, made to kneel before a stump and were beheaded.

McGee began to shake uncontrollably as the soldiers came ever closer to him. He tried to look away, not wanting to know who was marked for death. He wondered what fate the rest of them would face. Would they be traded or ransomed back to their own troops? Would they all face death eventually?

After the group reviewed the captives and picked out the ones to face death, the others were given meager rations of food and water and remained under the watchful eye of the guards. Each day more captives were added to the group. Each morning, more were singled out for death. McGee noticed the ones killed were badly wounded and older. The younger ones with minor wounds were kept alive.

Within a few days, they were urged onto their feet and forced to march away from all they had known. Only a minimum amount of food and water was provided for them as they were marched until they reached a ship, forced to board, then chained below the deck. 

Tears rolled down McGee’s face as he contemplated what his future might hold. He was fairly certain he would never see Scotland, his family or Abby again. Lying in the darkness, he listened to the constant creaking of the ship’s timbers and thought of how DiNozzo had been made to travel chained below deck on the voyage back to Scotland. His thoughts wandered to Gibbs and he wished he had a way to let Gibbs know where he was and what had happened to him.

~*~*~*~

Gibbs rode on determinedly, regardless of the time or the weather. From time to time he would stop for a brief break, allowing DiNozzo and the horses time to rest and eat, then they were back on the trail.

Instead of tracking the large army, Gibbs headed for a port city he knew. DiNozzo lost count of the days. McGee wore on his thoughts as well and he continued to push on, knowing his place was at Gibbs’ side, searching for McGee. 

A few days later, the pair found themselves in France. Most often, DiNozzo remained holding the horses while Gibbs met with his contacts, always asking questions. DiNozzo never made eye contact with the men Gibbs met with. If the wind was still enough, he would gently stroke the horses’ long noses and try to listen to the foreign words floating on the air. He soon found that Gibbs was a man who spoke many languages and knew many people, or at least he knew how to find out whom to talk with to get information.

The pair moved through the countryside on their horses. Gibbs would hunt for their meals, allowing DiNozzo to prep the food. The story they gave to strangers was that Gibbs was a wealthy French Nobleman wanting to travel the world and DiNozzo was his slave and servant. DiNozzo kept his eyes to the ground as others noticed the mark of a slave on his neck.

The men Gibbs sought out were merchants and barkeeps for the most part. “Every soldier crosses paths with a merchant or barkeep at one time or another,” Gibbs said. “They speak of their victories in battle and of what they brought back, be it gold, silver or slaves.”

Their continuous searching led DiNozzo to believe the world was truly endless. Gibbs had begun his search away from their enemies’ land, hoping some word would have trickled his way from travelers and tradesmen. Each day they heard no news, they headed closer to their enemies’ country until they found themselves wandering through the English countryside, keeping their true identities well hidden.

~*~*~*~

At first things didn’t seem all that bad for McGee. He was selected along with three others that were led away with their hands still bound. A single soldier took them, marching them until they came to a farm. Once there, their ankles were shackled and a short chain run between them, allowing them to only take short paces. Then the ropes on their wrists were removed. Before being allowed to rest, they were taken to a field and made to work until the sun touched the horizon. Only then were they allowed to eat and to fall asleep in the barn.

McGee found that the hours were long, but the work was familiar to him. It was obvious the shortened leg chains were to prevent them from running away. Their hands and arms remained free, allowing them to work as they brought in the harvest. Late in the day, McGee’s eyes would follow the sun, knowing that his beloved Scotland lay to the west.

Once the harvesting was complete, the soldier who owned the farm loaded his crops onto wagons as well as onto the backs of his slaves. McGee and the others were on the march again, this time they were given more food and water, but the heavy loads made it impossible to think of escape.

Within days, they came to a village where the soldier approached a mill and bartered for the sale of most of the crops. What was left he took to a shopkeeper and sold. Once his slaves were free of their burdens, he again bound their wrists together as he ushered them toward the outskirts of town where the traveling tradesmen set up their wares. 

The boys stood as one tradesman looked them over and made an offer. The soldier seemed unimpressed and moved on. McGee closed his eyes as the second tradesmen inspected them, running his hands over their bodies in a way that reminded him of Gibbs inspecting DiNozzo before making his purchase. 

The sound of silver pieces changing hands caught McGee’s attention. He opened his eyes and looked around at his companions. “We’ve been sold into slavery,” he said softly.

On hearing McGee speak, the tradesman smiled and walked over to him. “Scottish by the sound of ye,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” replied McGee.

“It is true that you have been sold as a slave and sold again you will be, once I find a suitable buyer.”

“I am certain you will find a farmer in need of hands, soon,” said McGee confidently. 

A loud belly laugh escaped the tradesman. “You have done your farming duties, my boy. You are worth far more to me than a simple farm hand.”

“As what?”

“You, my boy, will be going to Rome where they willingly pay a high price for young virgins.”

McGee backed away a half-step, his eyes opened wide. “Virgins? For what? Sacrifice?”

“In a way. The men of Rome enjoy sex. They enjoy youth. They will pay a high price for virgin sex slaves, male or female.”

McGee swallowed hard and felt himself starting to panic. As he struggled to find words, the tradesman held up a hand to silence him.

“You have said enough, boy. It is preferred for slaves to remain silent. I shall take good care of you and you will earn me a nice profit in silver.”

~*~*~*~

As their days of traveling stretched into weeks, then months, DiNozzo noticed that Gibbs truly took his task to heart. He grew quiet, lost in his thoughts of where to search next. DiNozzo learned to read Gibbs’ non-verbal cues such as the shift of his body, his stance and hand gestures.

Gibbs made the decisions on which way they rode and hunted game, often cleaning the skins and adding to his growing collection. DiNozzo collected herbs, gathered wild fruit and vegetables when he found them, hauled water, tended the horses and prepared their meals.

Gibbs hadn’t touched DiNozzo at night for longer than DiNozzo could remember. Most often, Gibbs would lay on his side, facing away from DiNozzo. If DiNozzo spoke or touched him, Gibbs would growl about it being late and them needing their rest. Some nights DiNozzo would sigh and roll away, seeking sleep himself. Other nights he would wipe away silent tears and wonder if he was truly meant to be at Gibbs’ side after all.

One evening after a quiet dinner, DiNozzo took the initiative to spoon up behind Gibbs, reaching his arm around Gibbs’ waist, until Gibbs shrugged him off.

“Get to sleep,” ordered Gibbs.

“You don’t want me any more,” DiNozzo said sadly. “Is it because here I’m a slave? Or because you’ve tired of me?”

Rolling over, Gibbs faced DiNozzo. “What?”

“You haven’t touched me once since we set foot on the continent. I want to know why.”

“DiNozzo, you know I have McGee on my mind.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to shut me out.”

“I’m not. I’m just, focused. On McGee. He’s got to be scared, frightened. Alone. In Danger. Who knows what he is going through? Or how long he will survive?”

“A dead slave is worth nothing. They will keep him alive for that reason. They did not take him from Scotland only to kill him on their own soil.”

“Probably true. But what tortures does he face? How long until we find him?”

“I can not answer that. And neither can you. Still, is that a reason to shut me out? To push me away?” Reaching out, DiNozzo placed a hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. “I miss being with you, Jethro,” he whispered. “I miss us being close, being together.”

Gibbs turned, breaking eye contact. “I need to stay focused.”

“Is this why your wives left you? Because you were focused on something and pushed them away?”

Gibbs sighed and turned back to DiNozzo. “Probably. I didn’t mean to. It’s just how I am. I have to save him, DiNozzo.”

“I know. I’m here to help you, to support you. Please, please don’t push me away. Not unless you don’t want me anymore.”

The stern expression on Gibbs’ face melted away and he reached out to cup DiNozzo’s chin. “I want you,” he said, running his fingers through DiNozzo’s hair. “I may have trouble showing it sometimes, but I love you, Tony. I want you here. I need you at my side.”

Satisfied, DiNozzo smiled and snuggled closer to Gibbs. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

~*~*~*~

Shortly after the boys were sold to the tradesmen, they found themselves held down while the mark of a slave was permanently put on their neck. The act only served to remind them of their new status in life.

McGee found himself outfitted with a long tunic and cloth wrapped around his head and face, leaving only his eyes visible. Long sleeves covered his hands and were slit far enough to allow the chains binding his wrists to slip through without gathering up the cloth. The garment was still scratchy next to his skin, but did serve to protect him from the sun. On most days he was made to walk for miles, although on rare occasions he and his companions were allowed to ride in a wagon for part of the day.

It wasn’t long before he noticed the hemming in the sleeves, where they were cut to allow his chains to rest. The sewn edges at the bottoms of the sleeves served as a pocketing edge. McGee began searching the ground on their rest breaks. He found he was able to hide away small pieces of rock in his sleeves when the guards were turned away. 

As they continued their journey, McGee used every opportunity he found to use the rocks to scratch out his name into rock walls or wells, anywhere he could leave a marker. 

Every few days, the tradesmen would set up their wares in a village, set to buy sell and trade. Few buyers looked at the young boys as this area needed slaves to work farmland rather than for pleasure and the traders knew the boys would fetch a much higher price in Rome.

The closer to Rome they got, McGee noticed the roads were better, wider and bricked rather than of dirt and mud. He took in the sight of the great aqueducts and the soldiers who guarded them. Rome itself was nearly overwhelming to the boys, with the great stone coliseum, the vivid clothing, the shops and the general bustling of people and beasts throughout the city streets.

The tradesmen allowed them one more night’s sleep to rest up from their journey, then had them prepared for sale. Each one was bathed and oiled then inspected by the man who had purchased them. He smiled as he looked them over, anticipating the money they would put into his pocket. At noon, he led them through the city streets. The boys wore only loincloths and chains.

Roman men ogled the boys, making lewd comments as they were marched through the streets to the market area. McGee swallowed hard and hoped that he was too old or too young, too tall or too short, anything that would prevent him from being sold as a sex slave. 

They were led to a small stage where other slaves were being sold. They watched as the tradesman spoke to the man who seemed to be running the auction. McGee was thankful the waiting area had a thatched roofing which blocked the sun. After having their skin covered for so long, the walk through town had left him feeling the burn from the sun on his bare skin. He felt thirsty, but wasn’t sure if he could ask for water. No one seemed to be paying much attention to them, except prospective buyers.

The boys found themselves penned in, surrounded by men and walls. Time seemed to drag by slowly as other slaves were taken onto the stage one by one and sold. McGee was the second from his group to be led onto the stage. The auctioneer called out words that were foreign to him as the stage handlers directed him by tapping him with long sticks. As one indicated for him to lift up his chin, he still kept his eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the faces staring back at him.

Within minutes, the auctioneer called out the final bid. McGee felt his body grow cold and heavy. Instead of moving off the stage, he collapsed onto it. His new owner merely laughed and hoisted McGee over his shoulder as he headed off to the side to pay for his new slave. 

The men joked around with the others in the tent as he pulled coins from the leather pouch he carried. After the sale was sealed, recorded and the money paid an assistant returned with a jug of water which he poured over McGee’s face, bringing him back to consciousness. 

“What happened?” he sputtered as he struggled to stand up.

It was the first time he truly saw the face of his buyer. The man was tall and built like a warrior. “Where are you from, boy?” he asked in Latin.

“Scotland.”

“And what do they call you?”

“McGee.”

The man gruffly took hold of McGee’s forearm and tugged him. “Come, McGee.”

The pair hadn’t gotten too far before his new owner pulled McGee into the main market place. Within minutes, McGee found himself dressed in a new tunic and a new pair of sandals. After watching his new owner make a few more purchases, McGee found himself led through the streets of Rome for a good twenty minutes before he was led through the front entrance of a large, beautiful home. He knew then that his new owner was quite wealthy.

“Theous!” the man called at the entry foyer. 

Within moments a male slave appeared.

The owner pushed McGee toward him and spoke in a language McGee didn’t understand. He watched as the other slave nodded to their master, then waved for him to follow.

McGee said nothing as he was led through the magnificent house then through a courtyard full of flowers, fountains and statues. Across the courtyard he was led into a small room. The room held a small bed, a table and a bookcase filled with a few volumes.

McGee watched as the other slave spoke to him. Since he didn’t understand, he stood silently until the other slave stopped talking, then nodded. The other slave looked at him for a moment, then left him alone in the room.


	8. McGee learns of his duties to his new master.

It was still early in the day, but McGee wasn’t sure he should venture away from the room. The slave who had escorted him had said many things to him, one could have been not to set foot outside of the room. McGee stood in the doorway and looked into the magnificent courtyard gardens in admiration for a while then settled himself onto the bed for a nap. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he felt a hand gently shaking his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up to see a handsome young man standing over him telling him to wake up.

“I have brought you a snack. This is your first night here and I will help you prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“Yes. My name is Daniel.”

“McGee. Timothy. You’re not a Roman, are you?”

“I am a captured slave.”

“Where were you from?”

“Jerusalem.”

“And you were taken in battle?”

Daniel waved McGee over to join him. The table was small, but large enough for the two to sit down and enjoy a meal together. “The Roman soldiers came to us. We were talking of our religious beliefs. None of us were armed. But the Jewish clergy had asked the Romans to take us away and punish us.”

“You’re not Jewish, then?”

“I am a Christian. We were captured. Some were killed as we were taken, others on the march back to Rome. Most were sent to the Coliseum to die there, but The General, our Master, he took a liking to me and kept me for his own. It was hard at first, but it has become easier as time moves on. Now it is your time.”

“My time? My time for what?”

“He has chosen you. You are the new Courtesan, his favored companion. I will help you adjust. I was his last Courtesan. Most of the slaves here served as his Courtesan at one time or another.”

“I have only met Theous.”

“He is Greek. He was once Courtesan, but now he runs the household. There were others before him, but they are no longer around. Do not trust in him.” Leaning closer, Daniel placed his hand on McGee’s arm and spoke softly. “He is the only one who fell in love with The General. He is very jealous of the current Courtesan. He will trip you up if he can.”

“He spoke to me, but I did not understand his words.”

“He speaks Greek when he can. The General indulges him. It forces the rest of us to learn enough to understand his orders. Latin is the true language spoken here and you seem to understand it well enough.”

“Aye. I am from Scotland. My friends, some travel and some are educated. They have taught me Latin amongst other things. I am a farmer by trade, but was captured in battle and sold into slavery. Is it bad for you here? Being a slave?”

“Some. Being Courtesan is mostly a good thing. The General will spoil you if you please him and will punish you if you do not.”

“Please him? How?”

“Sexually.”

McGee’s eyes widened. “With him?”

“Do you know what a Courtesan is?”

McGee shook his head.

“You will be his sexual partner and like a piece of jewelry to sparkle on his arm. If you please him, he will spoil you with anything you want, anything. You can choose the best food, wine, jewelry, clothing, even a fine horse to ride. If you please him, he will give you anything you desire.”

“My freedom?”

Daniel smiled. “Not that. Any belongings, I mean, or food or drink. Perhaps even take you traveling if you desire. But you will still be a slave. And in a few months, he will buy a new Courtesan and you will no longer be the favored one in the house, but only a common slave, as the rest of us have become. There are no women here, only men. Since you farmed before, perhaps you will farm again, or work in the stables or gardens. When the time comes, The General will choose a place for you.”

“What if I won’t let him do that to me, touching me and laying with me?”

“He owns you, you must do as he says.”

“I am still a virgin. I wanted my first time to be with my wife. On our wedding night.”

Daniel nodded as he chewed a piece of bread. “In my religion, it is the same. The General cares nothing of your beliefs, feelings or desires. He has purchased you because you are a virgin and he finds you attractive. He has paid money to be your first. He will have you, Timothy. It will not be easy for you, but time will ease the pain.”

“It hurts?”

“At first, yes.”

“I know a man from Rome. He told me the boys of Rome are taught by the men, but he never said there was pain in learning. I thought it was supposed to be a good thing, pleasurable.”

Daniel chuckled lightly and rested his hand on McGee’s shoulder. “The time will come for it to be pleasurable. At first, you will adjust. Some things may be pleasurable to you even in the beginning, some will be difficult and some will be pleasurable. The more you lay with him, the less painful it will become. Perhaps one day you may even enjoy laying with him.”

“I very much doubt that!”

Daniel shrugged as he reached for his wine. “You should eat more, McGee. This night will be long for you.”

“My stomach feels as if it churns.”

“It is a nervousness we have all felt. I will help to teach you your routines. That is my job for now. I will show you how to prepare yourself for him.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You must. His punishments are. More painful. Much more painful. You must do your best to please him. That is your place as a slave. You should put everything else out of your mind. Your thoughts should be only to please him. If you do that, your life here will be easier.”

McGee’s eyes dropped to the table. He had dreams, dreams of going home again, of returning to his life in Scotland and seeing his family, Abby and all his friends again. He had tried to see his new life as a temporary adventure, but it was starting to feel like a lifelong sentence, one from which he may never escape.

Reaching across the table, Daniel slowly raised McGee’s chin. “You will be fine, Timothy. I will be your friend and will teach you. I have walked this path for over a year. Come, I will take you to the baths.”

After a brief hesitation, McGee rose to his feet and followed Daniel out of the room. It was a short path through the corridor to reach the slaves’ bath. Two other young men were there when they arrived.

“Timothy, this is Peter and Andrew. They help in the baths, keeping it all clean and stocked. They will help you if you need help.”

“Why would I need help bathing?”

Again Daniel smiled, knowingly. “First, you must learn the proper way to bathe in preparation for being with him. Once you learn, you may bathe on your own if you wish, however, you must also remember that when he sends for you, he wants to see you in a short time. If others help you, you will get to him faster and that will please him.”

McGee nodded as he allowed Daniel to assist him in disrobing. As his clothing was pulled away, McGee blushed and held his hands in front of his cock. The other men smiled, they had seen bashful slaves before and knew how things would soon change.

“We are not required to wear clothing here. You may disrobe here or in your room. Many enjoy exercise before the bath, but when The General sends for you, you will not have time. First you disrobe and step into the warm bath until you are comfortable with the temperature.”

After leading the way to the warm bath, Daniel took his own clothing off, then reached for McGee’s hand, assisting him into the bath. “You should bathe at least once each day and always when he calls for you to be with him. When you bathe for him, remember the time. You must be thorough, but also quick. Other times you may remain in the bath as long as you wish.”

McGee watched how Daniel relaxed, closing his eyes and turning his head to stretch out his neck muscles. They spent only a few minutes in the warm bath before moving onto the hot bath. The water was hotter than McGee had ever experienced before and his initial reaction was to try and scramble back out of the bath as the other three slaves laughed at his plight and shooed him back into the steaming water.

“You will get used to it,” Peter assured him, as he pressed a hand against McGee’s shoulder.

Daniel was already relaxing in the bath before McGee could manage staying in for more than a minute without trying to hop back out.

“My skin, it turns red! You are boiling me alive!” insisted McGee.

Again the others chuckled in amusement as Andrew lightly rubbed McGee’s skin with a warm sponge.

“The hot water promotes sweating, which will help cleanse the dirt from your body,” explained Daniel.

After McGee finally adjusted to the hot bath, Daniel led him first to the edge of the room and had him stand still. Andrew was soon at their side with a jar of scented olive oil. Both Andrew and Daniel began to rub oil into McGee’s skin.

“Relax,” Daniel urged. “Your body will absorb the oil it needs to remain soft and supple. The excess oil will help remove dirt from your skin. The General will notice if you are not thorough. It is easiest to have someone assist you with this.”

Taking a deep breath, McGee concentrated on remaining still. Andrew and Daniel both worked the oil into his skin quickly with firm, kneading motions. Once he got used to the sensation, he let his breath out and relaxed, learning to accept the touch. 

Once his skin was thoroughly oiled, Peter brought over a couple of long, curved scraping blades. “These are strigils. They may feel strange at first, but you will get used to them.”

McGee swallowed deeply as Peter quickly and efficiently scraped the excess oil from his skin. A few feet away, Andrew was rubbing oil into Daniel’s skin, then scraped him down as McGee watched.

McGee followed Daniel to a second warm bath, which he found much more comfortable than the hot bath. Closing his eyes, he began to understand why Daniel enjoyed sitting in the warm water. Before long, Daniel was tugging at his wrist.

“The second warm bath is to help your body adjust from the hot water to the cold,” explained Daniel as they slid into the final pool, which was cool enough to steal the breath from McGee’s lungs. “Once you feel comfortable in the cold bath, your body has cooled down enough. It is like a horse that is galloped a long way. You must walk it to cool it down slowly, or it will become ill.”

After they climbed out of the final bath, Peter and Andrew were waiting for them with drying cloths. Andrew also rubbed some perfumed oil into McGee’s hair and styled it, weaving in laurels from the garden.

After Daniel had dressed himself, he came to assist Peter in dressing McGee in the tunics and toga The General had bought for him in the market place.

Peter used light colored powders to draw out McGee’s best features, then the three slaves stood back to admire McGee.

With a nod and a smile, Daniel showed his approval. “You must remember that your job, Timothy, is to please our Master. Do not hesitate to ask for assistance in bathing or preparing yourself for him. When the General is happy, it is good for everyone here.”

McGee had begun to enjoy his bathing experience so much that it had slipped his mind that he would soon be taken to his new Master. He began shaking his head and opened his mouth to speak.

Daniel silenced him with a hand held before him. “He may request for you to wear certain clothing, or nothing at all. You will do as he wishes. For tonight, he wants you dressed so he can enjoy you slowly.”

Throwing up his hands, McGee suddenly blurted out, “I don’t know how to please him! I don’t know how to be with a man.” He could feel the burn of the blush climbing into his cheeks as he began to pace and run his fingers through his oiled hair.

“Timothy, calm yourself. He wants to teach you. He wants you to know nothing. As a painter begins with an empty canvas, he will begin with you from scratch. You will do fine,” Daniel assured him. “You will be fine. Come, it is time.”

Andrew scurried over to neaten McGee’s hair then watched as the pair walked away. With Daniel leading the way, they traversed the corridors of the home, winding up in a room lit with oil lamps. Long dyed cloth fell from ceiling to floor in bright reds. Large pillows were strewn about the room, mostly in the center, while lounges circled around the perimeter. McGee also saw large metal rings built into the walls and could see scrape marks on the columns which were throughout the room. A few statues and pedestals were also part of the décor.

“Is this the Master’s bed chamber?” McGee asked at a whisper.

Daniel smiled. “No. This is the room where he enjoys his Courtesan. Or any other he desires. Sometimes he desires a variety or more than one partner at a time. He may still call for others, but there is only one Courtesan at a time. Even if he takes another now or then, you are still his favored companion until he purchases a new Courtesan.”

Licking his lips as he surveyed the room, McGee tried to take it all in. It was so different that his life in Scotland. It almost seemed unreal, like a bad dream that he was unable to awake from. Closing his eyes, he mustered a thought of DiNozzo and wished that he was dreaming and that he would awaken to find DiNozzo standing over him, smiling his irresistible smile. 

But it was not to be. When McGee opened his eyes, he was still in the room with Daniel, listening as Daniel explained things to him.

“You must learn to read his wants and desires. Listen to him. Do as he wishes. Remember the things that please him and do them often. When you please him, you will be greatly rewarded. If you do not please him, you will not enjoy his punishments, I assure you.”

As he stood in the room, McGee felt his heart dropped, realizing how helpless he was. There was nothing he could do, except accept his fate.

“When he sends for you, the messenger will tell you if he has sent any special instructions such as what to wear. When you arrive here, you are to ring this bell to alert him that you are here and prepared for him. You will remain here until he either leaves or dismisses you. For now, he will send for me to show you your routines. I will come for you when he has finished. We will talk more then.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” 

McGee wasn’t sure why he was thanking Daniel for leading him to his virginal slaughter. Perhaps because Daniel was nice and patient. He seemed genuine in wanting to befriend McGee.

“After you alert The General that you are here, you will present yourself to him by kneeling on this cushion until he arrives and allows you to move. He will command you verbally or will touch you physically. You must learn to know what his touches and expressions mean. This will please him. I will leave you now, Timothy.”

“Can’t you stay?” pleaded McGee, his lower lip trembling.

“No, I can not. You will be fine. I will come for you later and then we will talk more.”

McGee nodded again and then knelt on the cushion where Daniel had indicated. He bowed his head and hoped that The General would be called away on business and would not be touching him tonight. All too soon, that wish was smashed.

The General arrived along with Theous. Even in a submissive pose with his head bowed, McGee caught glimpses of the finery that adorned his Master. The General wore an abundance of exquisite clothing which moved easily with his every stride. Where slaves had knots tied in their togas, The General had large, jeweled broaches. He wore several spectacular rings and carried a scepter inlaid with gems as if he were a King or Emperor. 

When he approached McGee, he offered out his hand. McGee instantly remembered the stories he had been told from others in his village, stories about meeting royalty. Leaning forward, he kissed the back of The General’s hand, bringing a smile to the man’s face.

The General cupped McGee’s cheek for a moment, then raised his face to get a better look at his newest slave. “See Theous, he is a lovely creature and well mannered.”

Theous stood, his feet apart and arms crossed as he replied to The General in Greek.

McGee did not understand the reply, but it certainly made The General laugh. 

“On your feet, boy,” commanded The General. “I want to get a good look at what I have spent my silver on. What do they call you, boy?”

“McGee,” he answered softly as he moved off the cushion and rose to his feet.

“What’s your given name, Laddy?”

“Timothy.”

“Timothy,” repeated The General as he circled around McGee. “Come to me, Timothy.”

McGee’s eyes darted between Theous, The General and the door.

Theous smiled. “He thinks to run from you, Master.”

“I think he would not get far,” said The General. Raising his voice, he commanded again, “Come to me, Timothy. I will teach you to obey and to obey at the first request.”

As his eyes met his Master’s, McGee swallowed hard and began to tremble. His new Master had to be around Gibbs’ age, or even older. His hair was graying and his eyes held wisdom. It took a few seconds and a few deep breaths for McGee to gather himself together and force his feet to carry him to The General’s side.

The General didn’t hesitate in his actions, but swiftly raised the scepter, striking McGee across his cheek. “First lesson of the day. You do not keep me waiting. Ever. Any hesitation gives me reason to punish you. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” McGee had lost his balance and was now kneeling at The General’s feet. Using one hand, he checked the spot where he had received the blow, surprised when he found no blood there.

“Timothy, on your feet. Theous, come.”

Theous showed no hesitation as he swiftly crossed the room.

“Disrobe him for me,” commanded The General as he found a seat on a nearby lounge. 

“May I pour the wine?” asked Theous.

“Certainly. Pay attention, McGee. There is a reason Theous has been made Head of my Household. He anticipates my ever need, my every desire. Thank you, Theous.”

Had Theous been a cat, McGee was certain he would have purred. He watched as Theous walked over to him. He certainly was handsome, with brown eyes and an abundance of dark hair which fell in loose curls, often across his forehead, which caused Theous to constantly push them back.

It didn’t take long for Theous’ well practiced hands to remove each of McGee’s garments, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. McGee began to tremble under the scrutiny of his Master’s glare.

“Bring him to me,” commanded The General as he drank his wine.

Theous grabbed McGee’s arm and hauled him to The General’s side.

“Lay beside me, Timothy,” The General ordered as he moved himself back on the lounge, leaving room for McGee.

Again McGee hesitated. A shove from Theous caused him to lose his balance and fall forward. Theous was quick to grab his legs and settle him onto the lounge alongside their Master.

“You, I fear, will have to work hard to gain my favor, boy,” said The General as he pushed McGee onto his back with a palm spread across his chest. “Smooth,” he commented as he began to rub McGee’s skin.

McGee dared to grasp The General’s wrist. “Please, Sir, please.”

Instead of getting angry, The General laughed and Theous joined in. 

“He begs as if he has a choice in the matter,” said Theous. “As if a slave has any choice at all.”

“Really Theous, he hasn’t been a slave for long, only a few months I am told. Perhaps his last master was lenient and slow to train and punish disobedient slaves.”

“I doubt he has ever felt the cut of a whip before, Master, but I am sure he will soon know how it feels.”

“It will be up to me to deal out punishments,” The General spoke sternly. “However, it will be up to the other slaves to assist in his training. He must learn what it is to be a slave and to obey without resistance or back talk.”

“He will, Master. I am certain he will learn swiftly under your guiding hand.”

The General quickly twisted his wrist, easily breaking McGee’s hold. “I do not accept disobedient soldiers in my ranks. Nor do I accept disobedient slaves in my household,” growled The General. “I have trained both soldiers and slaves who were younger than you. I will not be gentle as I do not need to be. Men learn best when trained with a strong hand and a heavy whip.”

McGee lay still, feeling his heart beginning to race as trepidation began pumping adrenaline through his body. His muscles tightened, ready for action, but he felt paralyzed by his fear of The General and his heavy handed notions of training and discipline.

“Relax,” said The General as he began caressing his hand across McGee’s bare chest. “Relax and you may find it enjoyable.”

McGee wanted to say he wouldn’t, but he felt like he had lost the capacity to speak. Instead he lay still, turning his eyes away from The General, not wanting to watch. The General smiled as he turned McGee’s chin, so they were once again face to face. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips against McGee’s.

The nearness seemed suffocating to McGee. Closing his eyes, he tried to pretend it was Abby’s lips he was kissing, then Tony’s, but the images wouldn’t hold. There was something overwhelming about the forcefulness of The General. McGee felt his will fading quickly as he soon felt powerless. Instead of fighting, he lay quiet and still, allowing The General to kiss him freely and paw over his body as he wished. 

Hours later, Daniel returned to the chamber to find McGee bloodied, bruised and in a daze. Sitting close, he moved McGee’s head to his lap and slowly threaded his fingers through McGee’s hair, stroking him gently. “Timothy, it will get easier for you,” he said softly. “We all remember our first night with him. It is never a pleasant thing. But you will learn and it will get easier for you.”

McGee’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Daniel.

“You must get up. I will help you. Come on, Timothy. We’ll get you cleaned up and fed. Then you can rest.”

McGee struggled to sit up. “They hurt me.”

Rising to his feet, Daniel offered his hand to McGee. “I know. But it will get easier for you. I promise.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“You don’t understand. They did terrible things to me. The General and Theous, both. I can’t go through that again.”

“Timothy, I told you before that most here have served as Courtesan to The General for a time. I do know how it is. We all know. And we will help you. You must be strong and we will help you get through this. After a few months, he will buy a new Courtesan and your time will be done.”

“They hurt me, Daniel. They beat me and tied me down and did terrible things.”

“I know what they do. We all know what they do, what he does. We have all experienced this. How dare you act like you have suffered worse than any other here? This is your lot in life and you will bear it, at least for now. It will hurt and cause you pain, I know, but you will survive this and after a few months, it will be over and a new Courtesan will take your place. Now, come with me and we will get you cleaned up.”

“I’m bleeding. From. There,” said Tim, his head dropped.

Daniel’s voice softened, “It is not unusual for your first time. Once we get you cleaned up, there is a salve that will help.”

McGee finally took Daniel’s hand, squeezing it hard as he stood up and felt a trickle running down his legs. The pair looked down to see reddish spots coloring the tile floor below McGee.

“Stay here for a moment,” said Daniel. “I’ll get something for you.”

A couple minutes later, Daniel returned with a cloth which he wrapped around McGee’s waist and pulled between his legs. Afterward, he led McGee to the slaves’ baths where both Andrew and Peter assisted in inspecting McGee’s wounds and helping to bathe him.

“The Master likes his Courtesans colored,” Daniel began as he sponged warm water across McGee’s body. “We think it, perhaps, reminds him of his days of glory out on the battlefield. He served as a great General for many years before he retired. He earned a lot of money and fame during his lifetime.”

“He had Theous do much of it,” admitted McGee.

“And I will bet he took great pleasure in marking you. He enjoys pleasing The General and also causing pain to others.”

“He tied my ankles spread apart, then bound my wrists so I could not struggle much. Then The General took me. Afterward, he drank wine and told Theous to take me so he could watch. Then The General took me again. I could already feel the blood and I begged him not to, but he did anyway.”

“He does not pity those who beg, nor those who shy away from their duties. It will go easier for you if you at least pretend to enjoy your sessions with him.”

“How can I?”

“It angers him when you disobey. It angers him when you show weakness, like begging for him to stop. When you do such things, he will only beat you more. If you pretend to enjoy it, you will please him. When you please him, he will show you great rewards. Next time, tell him you enjoy being with him and take note of his reaction.”

“You want me to lie to him?”

“Yes!” said Daniel, relieved that McGee was finally beginning to understand. “That is your duty as Courtesan. Tell him he is wonderful and great. Pretend that it is a most wonderful treat to be with him and he will reward you greatly. You will find the rewards much better than his punishments.”

McGee nodded slowly.

When night fell again, Daniel came to McGee’s room. “He sends for you.”

Panic appeared in McGee’s eyes. “I can’t! Daniel, please. You said yourself that I am torn down there. How can he send for me knowing I am injured?”

Placing his hand on McGee’s shoulder, Daniel remained patient. “He owns you, Timothy. It does not matter to him if you are sick or hurt. He has sent for you and you must go. If you are wise, you will not tell him of your pain and discomfort, but will do your duty and please him in any way you can.”

“It will be worse tonight.”

“Probably true. You have not yet healed and the wounds will open again. You must live with this, Timothy. One day you will heal and you will no longer feel the pain. But do not complain to him or show him your pain. It will only be worse for you if you do.”

“I cannot hide it.”

“You must try.”

Once again Daniel accompanied McGee through the ritual bathing, then led him back to the room and left him kneeling on the cushion, awaiting The General. Minutes later, The General strode into the room, his robes flowing as if fluttering in the wind. Behind him was Theous, smiling as his eyes fell onto McGee.

“Disrobe him,” commanded The General as he took a seat.

“May I pour the wine?” Theous asked, moving toward the jug before The General answered.

“Certainly. Thank you, Theous.”

With well practiced hands, Theous quickly removed McGee’s clothing, leaving him bare and feeling vulnerable as he had the night before.

“He does color nicely, don’t you think, Theous?”

Theous smiled as his eyes fell across the bruises he had placed on McGee’s body the night before. “Like a stunning piece of artwork and you the grand artiste, Master. It is a thing of beauty to behold.”

“Bring him to me.”

Tonight McGee held his tongue and his protests. He lay beside his Master willingly and allowed his body to be touched without flinching. When his Master pressed his lips against his, McGee fought not to turn away and break the kiss, but held it, even allowing his own hands to touch his Master’s skin and hold him close.

“He learns quickly,” said The General. “This pleases me, Timothy.”

McGee nodded. “I am yours to do with as you please. Command me.”

This time when The General took him, McGee did not fight against it. Instead he did his best to keep his mind far away, just as Daniel had suggested. Instead of thinking of his place in Rome with his Master violating his body, McGee trained his thoughts to focus on Scotland. He thought of working his fields and raising his crops and livestock. He thought of Abby, his friends and his family.

When Daniel came to get him, he felt calmer than he had the night before. “Daniel, thank you for your help. I do appreciate your words. The things you said, they did make things easier.”

Daniel smiled and patted McGee on the shoulder. “You will be fine, Timothy.”


	9. Gibbs and DiNozzo find their way to Rome.

When the winds turned cold in Northern Europe, Gibbs turned his horse to the south and kept riding, Tony close on his heels. They followed every lead Gibbs uncovered, trailing after traveling merchants and searching through every slave market and auction they came across. 

Months later, when the weather began to warm, Gibbs headed back toward England and started from the beginning once more. This time, they found the farm where McGee had worked the harvest. Gibbs was determined to follow every step, every path and search every town he could find, vowing never to return home until he located McGee.

At night, the pair snuggled together beneath a single set of bedding. By day, they rode hard, stopping only to search the faces of those they passed. When the cold season sent them south again, Gibbs led them on a different road than the prior year. Occasionally he stopped, inspecting a rock or tree stump at the side of the road.

DiNozzo said nothing until they stopped at one village well and Gibbs had that strange expression on his face, as if he saw something he had missed before. “Gibbs?”

“Yeah, DiNozzo? Getting tired already?”

“No. Just your expression. Like you’ve found something we missed before.”

Gibbs pulled up another bucket of water, filling his wineskin to the brim. Then he pointed to a mark scratched into the outside wall of the well. “What do you make of that?”

DiNozzo studied the marks and scratches. There were a few, but apparently one had caught Gibbs’ attention. “M?”

“If you were traveling through here and wanted to let someone know, what would you leave behind?”

“You think McGee did that?”

“As a slave he would have been watched, guarded. He wouldn’t have much time. I have seen this mark on the side of the road for the last few miles. We have to stay on the trail, follow these marks to see if they lead us to McGee.”

Stepping forward, DiNozzo reached out with his index finger and traced the mark. It was small enough that you wouldn’t see it unless you stopped. “He kept them small because his time was short. He didn’t want to be caught leaving the mark behind.”

Their progress slowed as Gibbs wanted to be sure they did not miss a mark. They paid special attention at crossroads and wells. If they took a road and passed two wells without marks, they returned to the last mark they saw and tried a different path until they located another mark at the side of the road.

Gibbs still looked at each face he saw, whether in town, on the road, or working in a field. The pair still stopped at any slave auction they saw and spoke to every tradesman they came across.

One day they found a familiar face set up in a town they were passing through. “Gibbs, my good friend,” Hasani said cordially. “I see you still have DiNozzo at your side. I trust you are pleased with your purchase, yes?”

“Greetings, Hasani, my Egyptian friend,” Gibbs said. Then he placed a hand on DiNozzo’s shoulder. “I am very pleased with DiNozzo, yes.”

“What do you seek this time? A female perhaps? A redhead, no doubt?”

“I am looking for the boy who traveled with me before, McGee. He was captured in battle in Scotland and taken to England as a slave a couple years ago. We finally found a farm where he had worked and was told he was sold to a traveling tradesman along with three others. Do you remember seeing the boy?”

Hasani thought for a few moments. “I do recall you traveling with a young lad when last we met. I do not recall seeing him since. If he was sold to a traveling tradesman, if he was sold to me, young and unmarked, I would take him to Rome, my friend.”

“Rome?” questioned Gibbs.

DiNozzo’s eyes seemed to dim as he spoke quietly, “The Coliseum. They need many bodies to keep the games going. They kill slaves in battles, gladiator games and throw them in with wild beasts.”

“Not such a young man, though,” said Hasani, shaking his head. “If he were older, yes perhaps. If there was no other use for him or if he was an older, more experienced soldier, then yes. But a young boy would be sold as a house slave. They offer great money in Rome for young, good looking slaves, male or female.”

The hair on the back of DiNozzo’s neck stood up as he listened to Hasani’s words and nodded. “If he is there, we will find him.”

“How long would they keep him as a house slave?” asked Gibbs.

“Depends on the owner. Probably at least a couple of years, perhaps five or more. There are many variables,” Hasani replied. 

DiNozzo was restless, mounting his horse and prepared to ride while Gibbs continued the conversation for a few more minutes before saying his farewell to Hasani. A mile further down the road, he reined his horse so he was beside DiNozzo. 

“Something worries you.”

“I grew up in Rome,” DiNozzo said.

“This I already know.”

“We had slaves. The house slaves we kept we women. All of them.”

“You don’t think McGee was sold as a house slave?”

“He may have been. But many men of Rome, they like boys and women alike. If he was bought as a house slave, it was probably for sexual gratification, not to pour wine.”

“And that worries you?”

“You know McGee had no experience with that. If he displeased his owner or if he fought, they would have,” DiNozzo pulled his horse to a dead stop as he paused. After taking a deep breath, he continued, “They would have dealt with him.”

“You mean, forced him?”

“Forced him, tortured him and possibly killed him. Romans do not suffer disobedient slaves and they enjoy the spilling of blood. I fear for McGee if he found himself in Rome. I’m not sure he could have survived this long.”

“McGee has always been a resourceful lad. Only one way to find out for sure,” said Gibbs as he pushed his horse into a canter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Daniel stopped short as he entered McGee’s quarters. His jaw dropped open in disbelief. A moment later he had dropped to his knees as tears welled in his eyes. His hands shook as he gathered the shorn locks of hair that were strewn about the floor.

“Timothy! What have you done?”

“I thought it would be cooler. The climate is so much warmer here than in Scotland. I’m still getting used to it.”

As he continued to gather the fallen hair into his hands, Daniel looked up at McGee, his head shaking. “Master prefers our hair long. Certainly you know this.”

McGee smiled and reached down for Daniel’s wrists, pulling him up to his feet as Daniel continued to cling to the wisps of hair. “It will be fine. It makes me feel more comfortable with it short and I will tell him so.”

“You should have asked him first. Before you did this. You should have asked him.”

“What’s done is done,” McGee replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “There is nothing he can do. Except make me cover it up or grow it back. Until then, I won’t have to deal with _them_ grabbing my hair and forcing me to. Forcing me to do things. Like that.”

“He _owns_ you, Timothy. It is his choice, not yours. Do you know what you have done? Have you not listened to anything I have said since you came here?” Daniel began pacing frantically about the small room, still staring at the wisps of hair in his hands as if he were trying to find a way to put it back.

After a couple of passes, McGee stopped Daniel by placing his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. Locking his eyes onto Daniel, he smiled. “It will be fine. He can do little other than accept it. And maybe, just maybe,” pausing, McGee bit his lower lip then continued in a whisper, “maybe he will decide it is time for a new Courtesan.”

Scowling, Daniel backed away from McGee, shaking his head. “You fool! You stupid fool!”

“Listen to me, Daniel,” McGee tried to reason with his friend. “Listen. It has been over a year. It is time.”

“It is his decision to make, Timothy, not yours. He will see through this and he will punish you. And likely me, too!”

“What I do is not your fault.”

“But it is! As previous Courtesan, it is my duty to train you, to ensure you understand what to do and what not to do. He will certainly see this as my fault. He has given you everything, Timothy. Why? Why can you not accept your life here? Why must you always push him? It only makes things harder for us all.”

“I am not meant to be here, Daniel,” replied Timothy, tapping his chest. “I can feel it in my heart that this is not my destiny. Scotland calls to me. My life is there. Not here.”

“Your life may very well end here. And soon,” spat Daniel as his hands became fists, squeezing the pieces of hair he held. “Your life depends on our Master’s whim. If he wishes you dead, you will never see another sunrise. Your ashes will blow away, forgotten, in a matter of moments.” 

As he spoke his last words, Daniel tossed the shorn locks out into the garden where a breeze caught them, scattering them away in seconds, leaving McGee and Daniel standing near the doorway in silence, staring at each other.

After allowing a couple minutes to pass, Daniel grabbed McGee’s arm and hustled him to the slaves’ baths without another word. Both Andrew and Peter did a double take when Daniel brought McGee in. 

Andrew walked over to McGee and ran his hand over the stubble of hair. “Did Master do this?”

Daniel was nearly shaking, his emotions torn between anger and fear. “No! The fool did this to himself. Master has not yet seen him. Like this.”

Andrew swallowed hard and exchanged worried glances with Peter as the pair set to work. The calming chatter that usually bounced off the walls of the baths was absent as McGee hung his head in silence, beginning to realize there would likely be consequences for his action. 

This time, rather than leaving the room after getting McGee settled in place, Daniel waited near the doorway, kneeling on the cold, stone floor. 

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” McGee whispered. “I didn’t think it would matter that much.”

“Timothy, hold your tongue. You will only make matters worse.”

McGee felt his muscles tense. His heart rate increased and he could feel how badly his body wanted to run fast and hard and get away from his situation, his Master and the city of Rome. It was certainly not what he had thought it was so long ago when he first spoke to DiNozzo of its abundance of food, fine clothes and glorious lifestyle. 

When he heard the rustle of his Master’s robes, McGee took it upon himself to speak first. “Master, I beg forgiveness.”

He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth when The General struck McGee across the face with his scepter. “After all this time, have you failed to learn when to hold your tongue?” Taking a closer look at McGee, The General soon noticed the shorn hair. Reaching out he rubbed his calloused hand across the top of McGee’s head. “What has happened here? Who has done this deed?”

McGee felt his body tremor as he faced his Master. Keeping his head bowed and his eyes focused on The General’s feet, McGee began to stammer his reply. “Scotland is much cooler. The warmth bothers me here sometimes. I only thought it may be more comfortable if it was shorter. I didn’t think. I am sorry Master. I beg forgiveness.”

Grabbing McGee roughly by his ear, The general spoke sternly, his voice nearly a growl. “You are my property, young Timothy. You alter nothing without permission from me. I will not waste my time on a slave who attempts the game you are playing.” The General allowed his eyes to linger for a moment before turning to Theous. “Michael has pleased me of late. You will give him Timothy as a reward. I do not wish to see this slave again until his hair grows out. Until then, he will stay with the guards. Perhaps they can teach him some discipline.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Theous as he stepped forward to take McGee’s arm. “It is a wise choice, my Master.”

The General’s eyes soon settled on Daniel. “You are responsible for his training and you have failed.”

McGee quickly turned, wrenching his arm from Theous’ grip as he stumbled and fell to his knees before The General. “Please, Master, please. Daniel had no knowledge of my actions. Punish me.”

The General stared down at McGee in disbelief. “And again he dares to speak where it is not his place. Theous! Take this insufferable ingrate away.”

Theous grabbed at McGee’s left wrist and held on tightly as he pulled him away from the room. McGee looked back, shaking his head as he mouthed silent apologies to Daniel.

The General stepped closer to Daniel, raising up his chin until their eyes met. “You will serve in his place while he is punished. That does not mean you have escaped the punishments that you deserve for you negligence.”

“Yes, Master. I am honored to serve you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gibbs and DiNozzo rode hard and fast, heading to Rome while allowing themselves minimum time to eat or rest. Few words were spoken between them as they continued their journey. Two days outside of Rome, they came across a pair of young men on a bridge. One of them held a young girl by her arm. Their words were lost to the sounds of rushing water, but their facial expressions clearly showed their anger.

Gibbs immediately nudged his tired horse into a gallop, heading for the people on the bridge. The young man holding onto the girl changed his grip to a choke hold.

“Are you her old man? Is this your old man, Maddie?”

Gibbs had his sword drawn as he dismounted and left his horse to run loose. “Let go of the girl. Is it money you want?” he asked as he drew out his pouch that held his silver. “I will trade you, my silver for the girl. Is it a deal? There is no reason anyone needs to get hurt.”

“Except for you, old man. If you’re not part of her clan, there is no need for us to speak to you.”

Gibbs smiled and cocked his head. “Your choice,” he said as he threw his pouch of silver high into the air. While the two young men were watching the pouch, Gibbs raced for the girl and grabbed her hand as he headed across the bridge, “RUN!” he called.

The clatter of Gibbs’ horse running loose across the bridge had spooked DiNozzo’s horse. It reared, then spun and bolted, leaving DiNozzo to land hard on the dusty road. After regaining his bearings, he looked up and across the bridge. The two young men had caught up with Gibbs and the girl. 

As the four struggled and fought on the bridge, Tony rose to his feet and began running as fast as he could. “Hang on, Gibbs! Hang on!”

Before DiNozzo reached them, the two young men had managed to push the girl over the bridge and into the water. After a few moments of wrestling with Gibbs, they threw him over the side of the bridge as well.

DiNozzo watched the fight unfold. He didn’t wait for the young men to catch up with him, instead, he dove into the water from the bridge and set out to find Gibbs and the girl.

He saw the girl first and swam toward her. When he dove beneath the surface of the water and searched below, he saw Gibbs. Somehow during his fall, he had become trapped by a fallen tree. Abandoning the girl, DiNozzo swam over to Gibbs and began tugging at branches as he attempted to free his friend.

Gibbs shook his head and pointed to the girl. She wasn’t moving on her own. DiNozzo feared she was already dead, but he did as Gibbs indicated, leaving Gibbs behind to fend for himself as DiNozzo pulled the girl to safety. Once he dragged her out of the water, DiNozzo turned her onto her stomach and felt her faint pulse and breathing. Although she was still unconscious, the girl still lived. 

Leaving her behind, DiNozzo dove back into the water and returned to Gibbs’ location. This time his heart sank. He could see Gibbs’ eyes open, but the sparkle of life had faded from them. Gibbs no longer moved on his own, only as far as the water would sway him. Working as swiftly as he could, DiNozzo managed to free Gibbs and hefted him onto the bank.

They had come up a few feet away from the girl, but DiNozzo could see she was breathing stronger than she was before. Turning his attention back to Gibbs, DiNozzo set his ear against Gibbs’ chest and heard no sound. “Don’t die on me, Gibbs,” he begged. “Don’t leave me alone.”

He relied on his memory of his training as he checked to see if anything was lodged in Gibbs’ mouth or throat. Not knowing what else to do, he turned Gibbs onto his stomach and tried to force the water from his lungs. Finding himself exhausted from fighting the current and pulling the two victims to safety, DiNozzo felt his own will falter.

“Come on, Gibbs, I can’t do this by myself. McGee needs us. He needs you. I need you. Don’t leave me, Jethro,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

Wrapping his arms around Gibbs’ chest, DiNozzo struggled to move him closer to the girl. He was starting to get cold and was certain his companions were as well. After setting Gibbs close to the girl, DiNozzo searched through Gibbs’ clothing until he found the flint stone and knife Gibbs carried. 

It took him a few minutes to gather together some dry kindling and pieces of firewood and even longer to get it lit. His hands trembled and his body shook, but he was finally able to get a spark and nurse it into a flame. 

When he turned back to Gibbs and the girl, he saw that the girl had opened her eyes. Her hand had reached out for Gibbs’. DiNozzo watched as the girl gave Gibbs’ hand a few weak squeezes. DiNozzo continued to catch his own breath and watch as Gibbs seemed to suddenly start breathing. After giving the girl’s hand a firm squeeze in return, Gibbs opened his eyes.

Now fully exhausted, DiNozzo made his way over to Gibbs and collapsed at his side. Snuggling close to Gibbs, he did his best to share the warmth of his body, laying his head on Gibbs’ chest, where he could listen to Gibbs’ heartbeat as it grew stronger.

“They’re gone, Gibbs. Those two robbers. I think they took our horses, the silver and left.”

Gibbs blinked his eyes then wrapped an arm around DiNozzo’s back, leaving his fingers threading themselves through DiNozzo’s wet hair.

“We’re all safe, Tony. Thanks to you, we are all safe.”

After a few minutes of resting up and regaining some strength, DiNozzo took off his outer tunic and wrung out as much water as he could, then he gently laid it across the girl. 

“I can help you move closer to the fire, if you’re still cold,” offered DiNozzo.

The girl shook her head no, even though she still shivered. “I don’t live very far from here. I should get home soon or my mother will worry.” After pausing for a moment, she turned to Gibbs, studying his features. “We used to live near you. I remember.”

Gibbs smiled and opened his eyes as he looked back at the girl. “Not likely. I’m from a small town, far away from here.”

“I know. In Scotland. I’m Maddie. I was Kelly’s best friend. Remember?”

“Maddie,” Gibbs repeated almost to himself. “Maddie. Yes, I think I do remember. That was in better days.”

“When Kelly and her mother went with you to the battlegrounds, my mother refused. She said it was far too dangerous for women and children. I remember how your wife said she had nothing to fear when you were watching over them.”

Hanging his head slightly, Gibbs sighed heavily. “I failed them. I couldn’t protect them.”

“My father told me about it when he came home. I cried for so long.”

“How is he?”

“My father? He passed away a few years ago. It’s only my mother and me now. She would never forgive me if I didn’t invite you home for dinner, especially after you two saved me.”

“We have urgent business in Rome. We should keep going,” insisted Gibbs.

“I wish we had horses to spare. Putting a little food in your bellies is the very least we can do. You will need your strength. We have room in the barn if you want to rest up.”

At Maddie’s gentle urging, Gibbs agreed to a meal as long as they could be on their way again before darkness fell.

Five days later the pair wandered into Rome, looking every bit like they’d been on the road without a bath for more days than one could count. As even the poorest Romans and slaves tended to bathe daily, many of the Roman population sent looks of disgust toward the bedraggled travelers. 

Gibbs studied DiNozzo’s expressions as they walked through the city streets. There were looks that hinted at fond memories and those that hinted of pain in DiNozzo’s past. No words were spoken for long minutes as Gibbs allowed DiNozzo to lead the way. 

After a while, DiNozzo led them to one of the public baths. “We should clean up,” he said simply.

Gibbs smiled and placed a comforting hand on DiNozzo’s shoulder as they entered the baths. He kept his eyes focused on DiNozzo, watching him strip off his dust covered clothing, then slip into the warm bath, submerging himself fully, before rising from the depth and shaking the water from his face and hair.

“Good to be home?” asked Gibbs.

The smile quickly faded from DiNozzo’s face. “This has not been my home for a long time.”

Gibbs nodded slowly, then reached out to touch DiNozzo’s arm. “I am glad you chose to come to Scotland with me. I understand if you want to stay.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Gibbs?”

“No, not at all. I could even find myself enjoying Rome as long as we shared baths together. And a home together.”

“Rome does not strike me as a place you would enjoy, Jethro. Too much politics. Too many liars and cheaters. Living in Rome is a cutthroat game. One I have tired of playing.”

“Then back to Scotland it is. Once we find McGee.”

The pair did their best to knock the dirt from their tunics before setting out, searching through Rome. They looked for McGee’s face in the crowd and searched the slave auctions. 

After hours of searching, they found themselves in a city square adorned by grand fountains. Their stomachs grumbled from the lack of food. Although they had nibbled where they could, searching out those giving away small samples of their baked goods, it wasn’t nearly enough food to squelch their hunger.

Gibbs barely noticed the hearty call across the open area. “Junior! Junior!”

DiNozzo turned quickly, his expression immediately falling to one of doubt and mistrust. “Dad. How have you been?”

Gibbs watched as the gray-haired man in exquisite robes grinned and made his way over. “Junior! I am so glad to see you. I had heard a rumor that you had died in battle.” 

“I was wounded. A group of traders found me and nursed me back to health.”

“Traders?” DiNozzo Senior questioned with a frown as he inspected his son’s neck, quickly finding the mark of a slave had been placed there. “You’re a slave?”

Gibbs stepped forward quickly. “Was. He was a slave. I bought him to help me on a journey and then I set him free. My name is Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs.”

Senior stepped forward to shake Gibbs’ proffered hand. “Scottish?” 

“Aye. Tony lives with me in Scotland.”

“What brings you back to Rome?” Senior asked, breaking into his practiced politician’s smile once more. “You didn’t come to ask my permission to fornicate, have you?”

“He’s an adult. He does not need your permission.”

“That is true. And if you have set him free, he does not need your approval either.”

“He doesn’t need it, but he has it,” Gibbs said, his eyes searching for a deeper meaning in Senior’s expression. “We are searching for the son of one of my friends.”

“Has he run off to Rome and you’ve been sent to retrieve him?”

“Not at all. He was captured in battle. We traced him back to a farm in England. He was sold to a trader and we think he may have been brought to Rome.”

“He is young then?”

“He was sixteen when he was captured two years ago.”

Senior nodded as he mulled over his thoughts. “You must be hungry. I would be honored if you would join me for dinner. Do you have a place to stay?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No. We have only just arrived. We were hoping to find McGee. A place to stay hadn’t yet crossed our thoughts.”

“Then you must stay with me. I insist. You may retrieve your things and we will head to my home.”

DiNozzo took a deep breath, then divulged through gritted teeth, “We were robbed on the road to Rome. They took our horses, our money. We have nothing left.” 

His father only smiled broadly and motioned for them to walk with him. “Then you must stay with me. I have plenty of room. I will have the house slaves find you some suitable clothing. We will talk over dinner.”


	10. Gibbs learns more of DiNozzo's past, and confronts Senior. Later he runs into an old acquaintance.

As head of The General’s guards, Michael had a small bed, one he refused to share when sleeping. McGee found himself housed in the guards’ quarters, where, other than Michael, the guards each had a mat to sleep on. They were stored when not in use then laid on the floor in any available space when needed. 

As someone was always on duty, McGee would use any available mat he could find and was only occasionally woken up by a guard coming off duty and wanting his mat. That usually meant the guard would want sex as payment for the temporary use of his mat before he went to sleep.

Michael wasn’t above using McGee to satisfy his needs, but he made it clear that the boy was available to the entire guard staff and was expected to perform as requested. As he had been given to Michael, McGee tended to shadow the head guard, accompanying him throughout the day. At first McGee felt a relief at not having to be on call to service The General, but he quickly discovered how demanding, and occasionally abusive, the guards could be. 

Although Michael allowed the other guards to use McGee without asking permission, he still kept a careful eye on the young slave, always ready to step in to protect and defend McGee when needed. Despite Michael’s efforts, McGee did occasionally suffer a few bruises from one of the other guards when they were rough with him.

Every few days Michael, along with two or three other guards, would accompany some of the house slaves as they shopped and bargained for the estates’ needs. Most of the slaves walked, except for the guards, who rode horses. 

Although McGee never asked for the privilege to go along, there came a day when Michael suggested it. McGee happily trailed behind the other guards as they headed to the stable to saddle their horses.

“I really appreciate this opportunity, Michael. Thank you.”

“And what opportunity is that?” Michael asked with a sly smile. “You think you have an opportunity to run away?”

McGee’s face quickly turned ashen. “No, no. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t do anything to cause you trouble. You’ve been pretty decent to me. More than most.”

“You said you enjoy riding and you are fascinated by the city. There is no reason you should not go to see it now and then. And I do believe that between me and my guards, we can be trusted to keep you out of trouble and to ensure your safe return to our master.”

Finally McGee grinned. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No,” Michael admitted. “I trust my guards, but only because I am in charge of them. They fear my wrath if they upset me.”

“Or The General.”

“Those who anger The General tend to learn quickly not to do so. Have you?”

“I have learned not to trim my hair short without asking permission to do so.”

“Ah, that was a foolish decision on your part.”

The day was warm as the small troop rode into the main part of Rome. One of the guards remained behind with the horses as the others accompanied the house slaves to the market area. Michael put his arm around McGee’s shoulder and guided him to a different part of town.

McGee walked as slowly as Michael would allow him. Craning his neck, he admired the fountains, statues and gardens. He paid no attention to where they were going, he was too in awe of the city to focus on anything else. At least until Michael stopped. Then McGee noticed the flirtatious women and a few young, handsome men as well. They stood on balconies or on the street, luring men over to them. Sometimes the men smiled and moved on, while others chatted softly, then disappeared into a building with one of the women.

“Have you ever been with a woman, Timothy?” Michael asked.

“No. I was waiting. There is a girl back home I like. I thought maybe we would marry one day. I wanted to wait until then.”

Michael smiled and chuckled briefly. “Life is short, Timothy. And now you are a slave. I would not plan on marrying your bonnie lass. You must live here and now. If you would like a woman, I will pay for you to have her. Here and now.”

McGee swallowed hard and looked around. He saw many women returning his gaze and felt uncomfortable. “No, thank you. I will wait. I think.”

In the meantime, a beautiful, dark skinned woman had approached Michael, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. In return, Michael wrapped his arm around her waist. “You will wait here for me, Timothy. You are not to leave this area. Understand?”

Taking a step forward, McGee took a seat on the porch Michael had indicated. “I will wait.”

“He is adorable,” said the woman with Michael.

“He is The General’s courtesan.”

“Then why is he with you?”

Taking the woman’s face between his palms, Michael smiled then kissed her. “It is a long story, Ziva, and I think there are much better ways for us to spend our time together.”

As they walked away, disappearing inside the building, Ziva answered, “Oh yes, we do have some unattended business to take care of.”

As he waited on the porch, McGee listened to the calls of the other prostitutes as they offered their wares to him, some of them tempting him with free services. Soon he realized the more he interacted with them, refusing their services, the more determined they became, coming ever closer to him, some of them even close enough to touch him and whisper words into his ear that made him blush profusely. 

After a while, he tried ignoring them, but that only drew a few of them to tease him even more. They kept on harassing him until one of their handlers came out to the street, demanding they all return to work and take care of paying customers. McGee was silently grateful.

As things calmed down on the street, McGee leaned against a column, closing his eyes and wishing for sleep. In truth, he was afraid someone might mistake him for a prostitute and demand servicing. The longer Michael was away, the more wary McGee became. 

An hour later, McGee was awoken when the street seemed to come alive with movement. When he opened his eyes, he saw four muscular slaves setting down the covered compartment they had been carrying. A black slave that had been walking in the lead stepped over to assist the woman inside as she stepped down to the street. 

McGee’s eyes widened as he took in a beautiful, pale redhead dressed in expensive clothing and jewels. Trying to make himself less noticeable, McGee scooted as close to the column as he could, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around them. 

The woman took notice as soon as she placed her foot on the stone steps leading into the abode. “What have we here, Leon?” she questioned the slave who was assisting her up the steps. “A runaway?”

The black man looked bored, chewing on a small piece of straw. “Maybe he came looking for a job. Looks a little green to me, Ma’am.”

“Green, Leon? I’d say he looks rather red. He can’t be a runaway. This slave has been kept inside, away from the sun. Slave, what is your name?”

“Timothy, Ma’am. Timothy McGee.”

The woman allowed her eyes to wander across the open windows above her. “And you are waiting here for your owner?”

Scrambling to his feet, McGee choked out his reply, “Ah, no Ma’am. I am waiting for Michael. He is my owner’s head guard. And he is, um, visiting.”

The woman smiled, seemingly amused by McGee’s discomfort. Leaning closer, she quieted her voice to a near whisper. “You can say it, slave. Everyone knows this is a brothel.”

“He is visiting a friend. A woman. Here.”

“He’s getting laid,” the woman corrected as she climbed the remaining stairs to the porch. “Leon, do send out a snack. Our young friend here looks like he could use something to eat and drink.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

McGee watched as the black slave disappeared into the building, then he returned his gaze to the woman who had seated herself on a stone bench. “My name is Jenny,” she disclosed. “Which one of my girls is this guard visiting?”

“Ziva. I think her name is Ziva.”

Jenny smiled knowingly. “You are waiting for General Demetruis Thadius’ head guard, Michael Rivkin?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Come and sit with me, young man. I enjoy simple conversation while I eat. And you look like you could use a snack and some shade.”

McGee reached his hand to the back of his neck where he felt the warm burn of the sun. “I am usually inside or under shade trees in my master’s garden.”

“Of course you are.”

When the slaves carried trays of food and wine out to Jenny, they were followed by other slaves bearing huge palm leaves which they used to shade Jenny’s skin and fan cooling air across her.

“I own this establishment,” she divulged, her hand waving to indicate the building behind them. “Ziva and Michael are from the same area. They knew each other before they both wound up here. I could demand that he pay for her services in full, but we seem to have reached an agreement that he drops a couple coins for the enjoyment of her company. It is good for them both to have someone to talk to. Someone from their homeland. What about you, McGee? Where are you from?”

“Northern Scotland.”

“Have you met any other Scotsmen to converse with here in Rome?”

“No. But I have made friends here. Other slaves.”

“Just what sort of a slave are you?” she asked before sipping her wine.

“I am The General’s courtesan.”

“I see. What is it that brings you into Rome today?”

McGee reached for the bread and dipped it into a sauce before eating it. “I upset my owner by cutting my hair short without asking permission to do so. Until my hair grows out, he has placed me in Michael’s care.”

“And Michael came to see Ziva and brought you along?”

“We came with the house slaves. They are in the market with the other guards. Michael thought I would enjoy seeing Rome. And I do.”

“I would imagine it can be tiresome to never leave the compound.”

“At times. I don’t have any real work to do. The General does not want me to work in the fields as he prefers my hands soft and my skin pale.”

“It would not do for such an accomplished and wealthy man to have a courtesan who looked like they just came in from working his fields.”

“Really?”

“That is for a poorer man, to use one of his working slaves to sleep with. A wealthy man should have a wife, or a courtesan who does nothing other than pleasure their master. It shows wealth and status for a man to afford to keep such a courtesan. You should be thankful that you have such an easy life as a slave here.”

“It doesn’t feel easy.”

Leaning forward, Jenny lifted McGee’s chin. “You would prefer long hours in the fields with the crops?”

McGee swallowed hard, wondering just how well Jenny knew The General. “Yes,” he said softly, “I have always been a farmer. Until I went to war and was captured and brought here.”

“If you please him, perhaps he will set you free when he is finished with you.”

“I doubt that. I do not please him well. I mean to do want he wants, but it is not easy. And I am punished often for not pleasing him as he expects.”

“Perhaps you need to change your focus,” Jenny suggested as she nibbled from the selection of fruits and cheeses on the platter before her.

McGee sighed, before answering. “That’s what my friend Daniel tells me, that I should think only of how to please our master.”

“That is good counsel.”

“It’s just, my heart still yearns for Scotland and my friends and family.”

Reaching across the table, Jenny patted the back of McGee’s hand. “One step at a time. For now, you should focus on your duty to your master. Once you accomplish that, you can move on.”

Before McGee said another word, Michael stepped out from the doorway, escorted by Ziva. Leaning over, he kissed Jenny’s cheek. “How kind of you to entertain young Timothy. Thank you, Jenny.”

“And how nice of you to stop by and visit Ziva. I know how lonely she gets for company from home.”

Michael chuckled softly and grasped McGee’s arm, lifting him to his feet. “It is time I return to my duties. I trust you ladies will enjoy the rest of your day.”

Craning his neck around, McGee glanced back at Jenny and Ziva. There didn’t appear to be any harsh words between them, their expressions remained friendly.

“Ziva isn’t in trouble is she?” he asked.

“No, of course not. I still pay her a token, to Jenny actually, for keeping Ziva away from her duties for a brief time. But it is good for us. Like Jenny said, it is nice to talk to someone from your homeland now and then.”

“I never realized so many people of Rome are not Romans.”

“True, the population of Rome is more diverse than one would think. But the city has its charms which draws in many from all corners of the world.”

Michael and McGee beat the rest of the staff back to the stables, but only by a few minutes. Before long, the pack animals were loaded with market purchases and the group was headed back home to their master’s estate.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Spooning up behind DiNozzo after yet another fruitless day of searching the streets of Rome, Gibbs reached his arm around DiNozzo’s waist, lightly rubbing his splayed hand across his lover’s stomach. “What troubles you?” he asked softly.

“Can’t sleep,” murmured DiNozzo. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t disguise or stop the tremors that plagued his body.

Snuggling closer, Gibbs peppered the back of DiNozzo’s neck with a series of light kisses. “Tell me. Tell me why. What is it that troubles you?”

DiNozzo’s eyes were wide open, darting at shadows that danced against the walls. “When I was young, when I lived here, he used to have his friends over, like tonight. Political friends mostly. Other senators, wealthy men, royalty, high ranking officers from the army, traveling dignitaries. They would drink, get drunk and talk loudly, discussing many things.”

The sound of Tony’s father and his guests was still audible. Earlier in the evening, Gibbs had said his farewells out of courtesy to his host and had brought DiNozzo back to the room to ease his obvious discomfort.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, not him. But his friends. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to come staggering through my doorway so drunk they practically fell into bed with me. He told me he was counting on me to help make his guests comfortable here. He said it was my duty to do whatever they wanted me to.”

“He forced you to sleep with them?”

“I wasn’t allowed to say no. I would watch as the shadows came down the hallway. I could hear them laughing. I would pray they would keep on going, but it seemed like someone always came in. Sometimes more than one. Before long, I couldn’t sleep at night, not here. Still can’t.”

Gibbs rolled away, then rose to his feet and offered his hand to DiNozzo. “Then let’s find somewhere else to sleep.”

With one arm full of linen, Gibbs reached for DiNozzo’s hand and tugged him out of the room. The pair worked their way to the stables, moving quietly and avoiding other people. Once he studied the situation, Gibbs quickly made a bed atop a mound of hay, covering it with a few horse blankets and topping it off with the linen from the house. 

“Sometimes I would hide in the garden and sleep there when I was a boy. I slept during the day, never at night. I had to watch out at night,” DiNozzo said as they settled themselves on the bedding. 

“Not in here, not tonight. If anyone tries to mess with you here,” Gibbs whispered against DiNozzo’s ear, “tell them they’ll have to deal with me.”

DiNozzo tossed and turned for several minutes before exhaustion lulled him into a restless sleep. Gibbs remained with him for a long time, stroking his hair and dropping an occasional kiss on DiNozzo’s brow. When DiNozzo sighed heavily and relaxed fully into sleep, his eyelids fluttering as he dreamed, Gibbs gently pulled away, dropping a final kiss on DiNozzo’s cheek.

The moon was full above him as he walked through the exquisite gardens toward the house. Flowers bloomed, scenting the night and alluding to its beauty. A deep quiet replaced the earlier chatter. Gibbs had waited on purpose. He’d listened as the voices diminished, then chose his moment to move. With his teeth clenched he surreptitiously approached DiNozzo Senior as he stood alone in the garden, looking up at the stars.

“Jethro! You startled me. I thought you and Junior had called it a night. More wine?” he offered, smiling as he refilled his own goblet.

Licking his lips, Gibbs considered punching the man before him. He was definitely intoxicated. One punch from Gibbs would surely put him out for the night. “No, thank you. I thought we could talk.”

“Certainly. What’s on your mind?”

“Your son.”

“I am glad he pleases you. Although, between you and me, I had always hoped he would amount to more. At least more than a slave.”

“I told you, I set him free.”

DiNozzo Senior looked Gibbs in the eye, nodding knowingly. “You say the words, but I can see how it is. I know my son. He still acts like he belongs to you. If you told him you were returning to Scotland without him, he would be lost.”

“You know nothing of your son. You threw him away.”

“That is not true. He was flittering his life away. He was making bad choices. Wrong choices.”

“They were his choices to make.”

“Not when he was living under my roof. I raised him, educated him, I gave that boy everything and he did nothing with it. He could have been someone great, someone admired.”

“Like you?” Gibbs shifted on his feet, inching closer.

“Yes. He could have been a Senator like me. He could have led armies. He could have been an advisor to the Emperor. And yet, he chose to do nothing.” Shaking his head, he sipped again at his wine. “He chose to become a slave.”

“Why not? You gave him away as a child, to your friends at the baths, repeatedly. He told me as much.”

“You should thank me for training him. He must please you in bed. It is the men of Rome who taught him to be a wonderful lover.”

“They stole his innocence. They stole his right to choose when and where and with whom. Tony has grown into a worthy, marvelous man despite all you took from him,” Gibbs hissed as his anger grew. “He is loyal, smart, loving and a good fighter. He may be the finest young man I have ever had the pleasure to know. And yet you treat him as if he were beneath you.”

Senior chuckled and shook his head. “I assure you, he has never been beneath me, not the way he is with you. He is beholden to you. I heard about how he nearly died and you nursed him back to health.”

“I am beholden to him. On the way here, when we were robbed, I was thrown into a river and trapped by a sunken tree and the swift current. He risked his own life to save mine.”

“If you left him here alone, he would sell himself to survive. He is nothing more than a slave and a slave he shall always be. Yes, you can tell him he is free, but it’s obvious he cannot be.”

“It is you who allowed him to think so little of himself.”

“And yet here you two are, staying in my home. Really, Jethro, it is nothing but rudeness to disparage your host. Without me, even you would be out on the streets of Rome. You have no idea, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You live on a farm weeks away from anything one could call civilization. You’re a barbarian without a clue of how a civilized man should conduct himself.”

“I know that the way you treat your son is wrong. You have given him nothing but pain. You have given him the burden of self-doubt.”

“I love my son, despite what you think. I have always done the best for him and you have no reason or right to criticize how he was raised. You have no clue.”

“I know what I see. I can feel it in my heart. If I left him here with you, I have no doubt that you would use him as a slave yourself or sell him off to one of your friends. Or would you have him put to death to save yourself the embarrassment of having a son with the mark of a slave on his neck?”

“That is enough! I am going to bed now. I trust you will gone before I arise.”

“We will be gone before sleep claims you.”

Senior swirled the dregs of his wine in his goblet as he watched Gibbs stride away. Thoughts tumbled through his brain. Although he knew Gibbs didn’t know the whole story, there was certainly some truth that Senior could sell his son to a friend. The money would surely come in handy.

Returning to the stables, Gibbs settled in beside DiNozzo, holding him protectively before waking him up. They would sleep another time. For now, they were on a mission. Gibbs’ gut told him McGee was nearby and he wanted to firmly grasp the boy’s location before he slipped away.

Gently shaking DiNozzo, Gibbs whispered in his ear, “Time for us to get moving.”

DiNozzo drowsily blinked his eyes, “Still dark,” he muttered as he attempted to settle back into the bedding.

“We will sleep later. If McGee is working at a brothel, now is the time to find him. Let’s roll, DiNozzo. Up on your feet.”

DiNozzo knew Gibbs wouldn’t ask twice, at least not gently. After stretching his arms upward, he reached for Gibbs’ hand, ready to continue their journey.

“You lead,” said Gibbs as they stepped into the paved street.

“This way.”

The pair walked side by side as DiNozzo maneuvered through the streets of Rome. He smiled at how well he remembered his way through the city. The brothels were a fair way from his father’s house, separated from the living quarters of the noble Romans and taking several minutes to reach. 

Once they were through the market district, they saw the streets ahead illuminated with oil lamps. Guards stood posts keeping watch on their masters’ properties. The moment Gibbs and DiNozzo found themselves under the wash of the faint lamplight, they began hearing the offers from women who seemed to be hanging around at the front of nearly every building on the street.

When DiNozzo began smiling back at some of the prettier slave girls, Gibbs began to seethe. It wasn’t long before he smacked the back of DiNozzo’s head.

“OW!” called DiNozzo as he raised his hand to his head as if searching for a bloodied spot. “What did you do that for?”

Gibbs held his tongue until they were between two buildings, then he yanked DiNozzo into the narrow passageway, shoving him hard against the stone wall of a building. “Because, you belong to me. And I don’t share,” he spat. After glaring at DiNozzo for a few moments, he pushed forward, claiming DiNozzo’s mouth, kissing him as he pressed him forcefully against the wall. 

The moment he began grinding his cock against DiNozzo’s, he smiled, listening to the moans his actions had elicited. DiNozzo enjoyed the assault of kisses Gibbs rained down on his neck and chest. Once he caught his breath, DiNozzo dropped to his knees, nuzzling Gibbs’ cock through his tunic, his hands steadying himself by holding onto Gibbs’ hips.

They both needed a release. Gibbs ran his fingers through DiNozzo’s hair and spread his legs, giving DiNozzo access to his cock. Even in the near darkness of the narrow passageway, DiNozzo had no trouble working his hand beneath Gibbs’ clothing to cup his balls, fondling them before moving in closer to lick them. 

With his free hand, DiNozzo began slowing pumping Gibbs’ shaft, allowing the sensations to build slowly. Rubbing his thumb over Gibbs’ tip, he waited until he felt dampness there before licking a slow trail from Gibbs’ balls to the tip of his shaft. 

After thoroughly licking the tip of Gibbs’ cock until Gibbs began tightening his grip on DiNozzo’s hair and thrusting his hips forward, DiNozzo grinned and obliged Gibbs by taking in as much of his cock as he could. Sucking slowly at first, DiNozzo increased his rhythm until Gibbs began trembling with his need to come. 

Sweat trickled down Gibbs’ temple. His eyes were closed as he concentrated on DiNozzo’s actions. It was enough to make his knees feel weak and he was certain he would fall to the ground if the wall behind him had disappeared. He knew he had let his needs, their needs, go for too long. 

“Tony,” he murmured, “Tony, I need to,” Gibbs’ words trailed into gasps and low moans as DiNozzo worked his cock until he climaxed.

The orgasm was just what he needed to cool his head. After helping DiNozzo back onto his feet, Gibbs kissed him, then cupped his chin. The pair stared into each other’s eyes while they panted and caught their breath. 

When Gibbs smiled again, he patted DiNozzo’s cheek, then pointed back to the street. DiNozzo easily read the sign and led the way. Continuing on their mission, they marched purposefully through the district, mostly watching for young men, boys the age of McGee.

Slowing their pace as they reached the center of the district, their eyes fell upon slaves, both males and females, mostly young teens or those in their twenties, displaying a great variety of nationalities, skin tones, as well as height, weight, hair and eye color. Certainly anything anyone could want to experience sexually, could be managed in the brothel district of Rome, for a price.

With their attention focused on tracking down young males, the pair both stopped in their tracks when they heard a woman call out, “Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”

Gibbs instantly homed in on the voice. “Jenny?” 

Jenny stood up from her seat and gracefully took a couple steps down her stairway, then paused, resting her hands on the railing as she forced Gibbs to look up at her. “You look like you’re searching for a party. Perhaps one where you can bring in your own toy?”

Gibbs chuckled lightly, then shook his head. “No, Jen. I’m looking for a boy.”

Jenny smiled and took another step closer, her eyes taking in DiNozzo from head to toe. “Looking to trade in for a younger model? I may be interested in purchasing this one from you. He may be older than most, but he is handsome and in good shape. Just needs to scrape off the hair from his chest and he could still pull in enough coins to pay his keep.”

“I like his chest hair right where it is. The boy I am looking for is the son of a friend. He was captured in war and enslaved. We think he may have found his way to Rome where there is a high price paid for young slaves.” Gibbs’ eyes caught something hiding in the shadows behind Jenny. “Is that Leon?”

The black slave stepped forward into the light, his arms folded across his chest and the ever present piece of straw sticking out from between his lips. “Gibbs.”

“Leon has served me well for many years. Who knows? Perhaps one day all this will be his,” Jenny said, waving her hands to indicate the brothel behind her. “I have no family to leave it to.”

“I know, Jen.”

“Still keep in touch with Ducky?”

“Aye. He still owns the property beside mine and he still tends my land and stock when I am away.”

“This boy you’re searching for, does he have a name?”

“McGee. Timothy McGee. He was sixteen when he was captured. He’d be eighteen now.”

“McGee,” Jenny repeated. Turning back to Leon, she asked, “Isn’t that the name of General Demetruis Thadius’ courtesan?”

“Could be, Ma’am,” replied Leon.

“Find Ziva and bring her here. Jethro, there was a boy who came here the other day, he said he was from Scotland. I’m certain he said his name was Timothy McGee. He spoke of his love of Scotland and his desire to return to his farm and his friends.”

“Here? What was he doing here?” asked Gibbs.

“He was waiting for the General’s Head Of Security, Michael. He was here to visit Ziva, one of my girls. If I am not mistaken, the General had Michael round up some of the young boys from the brothels for a party he was throwing at his compound.”

“Tonight?”

Jenny smiled broadly. “The General’s parties are notorious for lasting for days. And he has the money to pay for it all. He is one of the wealthiest men in all of Rome.” When Leon returned with Ziva, Jenny continued, “Ziva, this is an old friend of mine, Jethro Gibbs. He is looking for Timothy McGee, the boy Michael had with him the last time he visited you. I want you to show Gibbs where the General’s estate is. Leon, you go along, too.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Leon answered quickly.

Ziva glanced at Gibbs and DiNozzo, then back to Jenny. “I can handle myself. I do not need Leon to protect me.”

“I know that, Ziva. But humor me. I think a stroll in the fresh air will do him good. Don’t you?” Jenny’s tone had turned authoritative as she pushed her point.

“Yes,” Ziva agreed. “I am sure you are right.”

“It is good to see you again, Jethro,” said Jenny as she stepped down to offer Gibbs her hand.

Taking her hand in his, Gibbs kissed it quickly. “It has been a long time since Paris.”

“Yes, it certainly has. I still have so many memories. If only your mind wasn’t set on your mission. I know how you are when you have a task at hand,” she said with a disappointed sigh. “There was a time I would have invited you to stay. And I would not have taken no for an answer.”

“No, Jen. No. I have a path I must follow.”

“You always were a man who followed his heart.”

Gibbs nodded. “It has served me well, thus far.”


	11. Gibbs and DiNozzo find McGee.

Moving with the stealth of a lioness on a hunt, Ziva silently made her way through the moonlit streets of Rome. DiNozzo could tell she was still upset and gave her a few minutes to calm down before he attempted conversation. Vance and Gibbs walked a few paces behind them, sharing a quiet discussion, which DiNozzo could only pick up stray wisps of. What he did manage to hear made little sense to him.

“So,” DiNozzo began with a broad smile. “You weren’t born a slave? I heard Jen say something about you and Michael coming from the same place.”

A brief flash of anger raged in Ziva’s eyes before she answered. “Yes, Michael and I are from the same town. My Father likes to drink and he likes to gamble. Both are forbidden, but he does these things anyway. One night he gambled and lost.”

“You?”

“Yes. A man had seen me and asked if my Father would consider a bet. I was gambled into slavery because my Father’s camel lost a race. Oh, he did try to win me back, but failed.”

“And he lost Michael, too?”

“When he saw he was having a bad night, losing every bet, he asked Michael to go with me, to protect me. Michael was my Father’s chief guard.”

“So he willingly became a slave to protect you?”

“Yes. He was always very devoted to my Father.”

“Even now?”

“Even now. If we were able to go back home, I have no doubt that Michael would resume his position with my Father.”

“And you?”

“I find it is not that easy to forgive.”

DiNozzo could see the hurt in Ziva’s eyes. “I am sorry. I became a slave much the same way. My Father decided I was worthless to him as a son.”

In a split second, Ziva stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “There is a difference. My Father loved me and respected me.”

“Right up until the moment he gambled you into slavery?”

After dismissing DiNozzo’s words with a wave of her hand, Ziva marched on. “You know nothing about it.”

“Why didn’t he buy you back?”

“It is not so simple. He had gambled with a man he knew little about. We were gone for only a brief time when the man who won us died in battle. When it was found out, all his slaves were taken to auction and sold.”

“And you and Michael were split up then?”

“Yes, but Vance recognized me. He has known my Father for years. When he saw me at auction, he asked Jenny to buy me.”

“Did your Father used to own Vance?”

“No. It is not like that. Vance is not a slave per se. He has offered his services to Miss Jenny and in return, she pays him a small sum and has promised to leave all her possessions to him in her will.”

Pausing thoughtfully, DiNozzo looked up at the moon as he pieced together the puzzle that brought them all together in this current place and time.

Cool winds blew as the group walked twenty minutes outside of town. Lit oil lamps became rare then nearly non-existent as they wandered further from the city. As the lights faded, so did the sounds of the city, falling away with every few steps they took as they left the streets that housed the brothels.

Ziva led them to a large estate that was walled away from the common road like a stone fortress. Armed slaves stood guard at the front gate. They watched as the small group approached, hands on the hilts of their swords.

Gibbs pushed his way ahead of the others. “The General invited me to his party tonight.”

The pair of guards looked him and the others up and down, then chuckled as they relaxed their stances. One of the guards spoke loudly, “Then show us the invitation.”

Glancing back for a moment, Gibbs quickly answered, “It was an oral invitation.”

One of the guards lifted his tunic and waved his cock. “Then perhaps one of your slaves could give it to us.”

The response angered Gibbs. “That is no way to speak to a Citizen, slave!”

“You’re obviously not from Rome,” replied the lead guard, notably unfazed by Gibbs’ comment.

Vance advanced quickly, grabbing Gibbs’ arm. “Let me handle this,” he said. “Go back and wait with the others.”

Thoughts ran through Gibbs’ mind. He sized up the guards and his own group, then thought better of it. If Vance could talk their way in to the compound, certainly it would serve them better to go in quietly, rather than raising an alarm with the clash of swords.

It wasn’t long before Vance had the guards chuckling with him, their words carried away on the breeze before Gibbs could determine their meaning. A short time later, we waved the rest of the group to advance. This time, the guards let them pass without question.

“What did you say to them?” asked Gibbs.

Vance smiled and shrugged. “I promised them a freebie at the brothel next time they’re in town. Just because the General likes young men doesn’t mean his guards do.”

They hadn’t gone far before Vance stopped them in the hallway. He searched through a collection of displayed collars and leashes before handing one of each to Gibbs. “The General has rules at his parties. Every guest must bring in a male slave. Privately owned slaves should wear a collar, but no clothes. Rented slaves wear nothing at all.”

Gibbs nodded his understanding as he fingered the leather collar and leash in his hand.

“You keep that leash on your boy and hold onto him tight. As long as he is on a leash, the others must ask your permission before they use him. If he’s off the leash, that signifies he is up for grabs.”

DiNozzo looked apprehensive as he listened, but remained still as Gibbs fastened the collar around his neck and attached the leash. 

“If The General has McGee on a leash, then I should ask his permission to use him?” asked Gibbs as he assisted DiNozzo in removing his clothing.

Leaning his back against the stone wall, Vance continued. “Would be nice if it was that easy. If he is The General’s courtesan, he is probably off limits to others.”

“Then how the hell do we get him out of there?”

Kicking off from the wall, Vance smiled, then patted Gibbs’ shoulder. “I will leave that up to you. Ziva and I will wait in the shadows as close as it is safe to do so. Once you grab McGee, all of you need to get out of here as quickly as you can. The guards at the gate won’t try to stop you. Ziva and I will see what sort of distraction we can use to slow the others down. We will do everything we can to assist you. Do you remember how to get back to Jenny’s place?”

“I wasn’t planning to go back. Once we get McGee, we are heading back to Scotland.”

“Good plan, Gibbs. Good Luck.”

Stepping from the shadows, Ziva offered, “If I can get to Michael, he will help us.”

Vance shook his head. “Too risky. If they see a woman here, Ziva, they will instantly be on guard.”

“But he is in charge of the guards. They would all be on our side.”

“He will honor his master’s orders, just as you must honor Jenny’s. We will do what we can, but it is too risky for you to go looking for Michael. You cannot be seen or heard here by anyone.” Before Ziva could get another word out, Vance held up his hand to silence her.

Gibbs took a deep breath and examined DiNozzo carefully. He still looked good, but was obviously past the prime age of Roman pleasure slaves. For a moment, he wished he had thought to bring a prostitute, then thought better of it. DiNozzo still bore the mark of a slave on his neck. Trying to pass him off as a free man would only draw attention.

Using his fingers, Gibbs straightened DiNozzo’s hair with a smile. “Ready for this?” 

Doing his best to show his faith in Gibbs, DiNozzo nodded and smiled. “Let’s go get our boy.”

Music called to them from the party. The largeness and grandeur of the home was breathtaking, but as most Roman homes, this one had a central courtyard which was commonly used to entertain guests.

DiNozzo’s eyes grew wide as they skirted the courtyard. It was larger than any he had ever seen and included a huge pool and more flickering lamps than he could count. A plethora of statues graced the gardens and pools. Aside from the music, there was a symphony of voices mingling together as the guests freely chatted, boasted and laughed. 

All of the guests and slaves were men, just as Vance had suggested. The guests varied in age, but appeared to be from the wealthy class. The slaves varied as well. There were many boys and young men. Some were held on leashes by their masters, while others roamed freely. A few were engaged in sexual acts with other males, kissing or fondling as the guests watched and commented. 

There were also slaves who were dressed, mostly those serving food and wine and also several guards. The General’s guards wore matching tunics and were many in number. Gibbs took note of them, that they were drinking and were talking loudly, slurring their words. 

“The guards are drunk,” he whispered to DiNozzo. “They will be slow of foot and of thought.”

“And of sword? Those are some mighty big guys.”

“Gladiators and soldiers. They can be beaten. I have seen you handle a sword yourself.”

“That is true,” agreed DiNozzo as he placed a hand on his hip. “But wait a minute. I haven’t got a sword. It seems that I am naked and unarmed.”

Gibbs smiled. “Aye, you are. Naked looks good on you. Keep a look out. Most of the guests are armed and all of the guards from what I can see. Most everyone has been drinking. They will be slow and won’t be expecting anyone to take their weapons from them.”

The pair surreptitiously circled the outer perimeter of the courtyard. They walked in the shadows and found more than one of the guests partaking in pleasures with one of the young slaves in the semi-privacy the darkness and shadows provided.

Using the darkness to his advantage, Gibbs did his best to remain unseen. Like a master chess player, he scrutinized the situation and considered his options before committing to a path. His hand tightly held the end of the leash which was clipped to DiNozzo’s collar. The pair had traveled together long enough that DiNozzo was quick to match Gibbs’ movements, remaining quiet and unseen in the process of gathering information.

Gibbs wanted to size up the situation before they moved in. 

“Have you seen McGee?” asked DiNozzo.

“Not yet. Look for the man at the center of the party. That should be The General. We find The General and we’ll find McGee. Stay close to me, DiNozzo.”

“As long as you keep hold of that leash and I’ll be a step behind you.”

As the pair moved in toward the courtyard, they met a guest returning to the main seating area with an unclothed teen. The man stopped and took a long look at DiNozzo and smiled. “He’s a bit older than normally suits my taste.”

“I didn’t bring him along to entertain the likes of you,” Gibbs replied.

The drunken guest laughed heartily. “He must succeed at entertaining you.”

“Aye, he does,” said Gibbs as he shoved DiNozzo up against a granite column. Pinning back DiNozzo’s shoulders, Gibbs pushed forward, pressing their lips together for a long, hard kiss. 

The wayward guest nodded his appreciation. “Despite his age, he is still quite pleasing to the eye. Do you mind if I try him out?”

When Gibbs failed to answer, but began to grind his cock against DiNozzo’s leg, his hands reaching to caress DiNozzo’s ass, the other guest finally moved on. 

When he pulled back, they stared into each others’ eyes, both breathless. Then Gibbs pressed close again, this time, his lips to DiNozzo’s ear. “Are you ready for this?”

DiNozzo placed his hands at Gibbs’ sides, gently stroking. “I am ready. I won’t let you down.”

“Stay with me,” Gibbs whispered. “You stay with me.”

DiNozzo swallowed hard at the concern tone in Gibbs’ voice. “Always.”

Slaves with goblets of wine approached them as they entered the courtyard. At first, few people took notice of them as they wandered and took in the faces of the guests and the slaves. Most of the group was boisterous and noticeably drunk.

Leaning over, Gibbs whispered in DiNozzo’s ear, “Sip the wine, but do not allow yourself to become intoxicated. I need you to have a clear head.”

“Yes, Master.”

Many hands grabbed at DiNozzo’s body as he followed Gibbs through the crowd, winding their way around guests and statues. He fought the instinct to evade the touches or react in any way. Instead, he blocked the unwanted contact as best he could and stayed close to Gibbs.

Within minutes Gibbs had figured out which man appeared to be hosting the event. Kneeling at the man’s feet was a naked slave on a leash, his head resting on his master’s leg as his master’s hand stroked through his hair. Gibbs stopped short as he took a long look at the leashed slave. DiNozzo was close enough that Gibbs could feel his breath on his neck.

“Is that McGee?” DiNozzo asked softy.

“I can’t tell from this angle. We’ll have to get closer.” Gibbs’ hand clenched DiNozzo’s leash tightly as his fingernails bit into his hand.

The closer they got to The General, the more crowded the space became. Gibbs had to start weaving his way through the myriad of guests, slaves, seats and statues. Voices grew louder as they neared their quarry. Gibbs ignored the comments about his slave’s age, looks and abundant chest hair. Then one comment caught everyone’s attention.

“Isn’t that Senator DiNozzo’s son?” 

Another voice replied, “I believe it is. So that’s what happened to young Anthony DiNozzo. He has become a slave.”

Another man picked up the conversation. “I always wondered if the Senator had sold him away. The way his father travels, he must have taken his son far away to sell him. Probably never suspected he’d wind up back in Rome.”

Another voice chimed in. “No, no, that’s not true. Young DiNozzo was in the army. I remember him in battle.”

“Wasn’t it said he died in battle?” added another voice.

“No matter, he’s here now. Perhaps the man holding the leash would be so kind as to share him?”

Anger began to seethe through Gibbs’ gut. “No, he is not for sharing.”

“Then he must be good!” teased another guest.

The comments finally caught The General’s attention. Glancing over, he gave DiNozzo a good look up and down as he smiled. After taking a sip of wine, he said, “A Senator’s son? He could prove a valuable asset here in Rome. True, he is old for a courtesan, but he certainly is handsome. And I am also sure he is highly experienced in the art of pleasuring his master.”

The General and his nearby guests all broke into a raucous laughter. Gibbs calmed himself by working his fingers over the leather leash that connected him with DiNozzo.

“It’s too bad Senator DiNozzo isn’t here,” The General continued. “If he was, we could all share his joyous pride in his son’s successfulness in his occupation.”

Again laughter rang out through the courtyard. Gibbs stepped forward, bringing DiNozzo with him, making his way over to The General. As he closed the distance between them, The General’s guards took notice. The ones closest to The General put down their wine and puffed up their chests, letting Gibbs know they were watching him closely.

When Gibbs was only a couple feet from The General, he broke out his most charming smile. “Actually, General, I came to see you. I have heard you own a slave I am interested in purchasing from you.”

Leaning forward with interest, The General smiled back. “Really? I own many fine slaves. Which is the one that has piqued your interest?”

“His name is Timothy McGee. A young Scot.”

At hearing the remark, the slave leaning his head onto The General’s knee raised his head slightly. His movements were unsteady and his eyes seemed to lack the ability to focus clearly.

“McGee?” Gibbs asked softly.

Instead of answering, the slave looked upward at his master. The General stroked the slave’s head, pushing him back onto his knee. “You seek to purchase my courtesan? My favored pet? And what is your name, stranger? Why do you seek my dear Timothy for your own?”

“My name is Gibbs. Timothy’s father was a close friend. His mother and his sister struggle to work their farm. They need Timothy back to help them survive. It is the least I can do for my dear friend.”

Once again, The General broke out in laughter. This time he used his pinky, pretending to wipe away a fake tear. “That is the saddest story I have ever heard. I think Timothy should remain here. It is important, this job he does.”

Anger caused the hair on the back of Gibbs’ neck to rise, like a cat preparing to fight. “And what is that? To take your abuse?”

Remaining perfectly calm, The General still smiled easily, his hand still stroking McGee’s hair. “His job here is to pleasure me and keep me happy. It is a most cherished job to be a general’s courtesan and I am the most senior of all the generals of Rome.”

“He looks underfed and well beaten to me. Hardly the way to treat your most cherished possession.”

“He is still learning. When he makes mistakes, he must be corrected. Besides, I’ve taken a liking to the color bruising brings to his skin. In fact, I think I shall have him beaten regularly so I can enjoy the coloring.” The General chuckled as he toyed with Gibbs’ ire. As he waited for a response, he plucked a few grapes from a nearby platter and popped them into his mouth, never taking his eyes off of Gibbs.

“Name your price,” demanded Gibbs, as he pushed his anger down and successfully harnessed his tone, matching the calmness he heard when The General spoke.

“He is not for sale. Not at any price. But perhaps you would like to trade.”

“Trade? For what?”

“For the slave you hold on your leash, young Anthony DiNozzo, Junior.”

Again Gibbs tightened his grip on the leather strap. “No. He is my treasured companion.”

“Ah, so you ask for me to part with my favored courtesan, but you refuse to part with yours? That hardly seems fair. But perhaps there is another solution.”

“Which is?”

“A battle!”

The General’s other guests cheered, encouraging the notion.

With a wave of his hand, The General signaled to his slaves to ready an area of the courtyard for a fight. A few guests were moved, but the slaves soon prepared an area which was clearly in view of the guests. Beyond the clearing was the pool, where some of the naked slaves still swam under the light of the full moon and oil lamps.

Gibbs remained silent as The General continued. “It is common in my crowd. Not unlike a gladiatorial battle, except no blood need be drawn. Your slave and my slave fight together until one can fight no more. If my slave wins, your slave becomes my property. If your slave wins, Timothy shall be yours.”

“Sounds interesting,” replied Gibbs as he took a good long look at McGee, studying him intensely. He appeared drunk or drugged on top of being obviously heavily bruised and most likely rather sore. 

Then Gibbs turned his eyes back to DiNozzo, who was in top form. Gibbs remembered back to their early days of traveling together, when DiNozzo sought to teach McGee how to fight. Surely during his days battling beside Fornell had improved McGee’s fighting skills as well. He had also grown taller and leaner in their years apart. DiNozzo certainly had more experience and was in excellent shape from their recent travels. 

DiNozzo wasn’t smiling, but he nodded slightly as their eyes met. Gibbs knew he would take McGee down quickly, hurting him as little as possible. He was also certain that if McGee realized the meaning of the battle, he would go down fairly easily for DiNozzo. Surely McGee wanted to get away from The General and return to his home and his family. Gibbs was positive of that.

After a few moments of internal debate, Gibbs nodded his head in agreement. The General nodded back with a broad smile as the other guests cheered and toasted, then began debating the outcome and offering wagers.

Gibbs turned, walking DiNozzo to the prepared area, hand on his hip to hold him close. “McGee was never the fighter you are. He must be feeling pain from his recent beatings. Let him get a couple strikes in, so it appears he is fighting, then take him down and pin him. We have a long way to travel. I need you both in good shape.” 

“Yes, Master.” DiNozzo replied as he eyed the cleared area, noting the perimeters.

Gibbs smiled proudly, knowing DiNozzo was already instinctively planning out the battle in his mind. Turning slightly, Gibbs faced DiNozzo, allowing their eyes to meet for a moment before he grasped DiNozzo’s shoulders and gave them a good squeeze as he leaned forward until their lips met in a kiss. That only sparked more conversation and wagering amongst the crowd of spectators.

One of The General’s slaves stood at the edge of the area, eyeing the pair as he sipped his drink. As Gibbs walked away, he saw The General waving him back. 

“You shall sit with me,” commanded The General. “We will watch the festivities together. Eat, my friend. Eat, drink, it is the Roman way.”

Raising his glass in a toast, Gibbs offered, “For tomorrow we may die.”

The General slapped his knee and chucked. “There may be a touch of Rome in your heart after all.”

McGee was still in his place, kneeled at The General’s side. Nodding in his direction, Gibbs asked, “Shouldn’t he be getting ready for the fight?”

“Oh, he is not for fighting,” The General said easily. “The battle was for one of your slaves against one of mine. I have chosen Michael, the head of my security guards.”

Turning quickly, Gibbs looked back to where he had left DiNozzo. He eyed the guard. His height was similar to DiNozzo’s, but Gibbs detected a slight weight advantage. Being the head of The General’s security guards, Gibbs quickly deduced the man had to be a top notch fighter. To DiNozzo’s advantage, Michael was obviously intoxicated. Gibbs watched as Michael chatted with DiNozzo, sizing him up.

Gibbs didn’t like the sly switch The General had pulled, but he knew there was no use arguing the point, not with The General surrounded with his own slaves and guests. Gibbs was going to have to trust in DiNozzo’s skills and instincts to pull this off. 

His eyes fell to McGee as he wondered how he would single-handedly steal away both slaves, if DiNozzo lost the battle. Then he silently chastised himself for thinking that way. He had to have faith and believe in DiNozzo to pull this off. 

Gibbs tuned out the noise of the other guests as they laughed and made bets with each other. As the General sipped his wine and chatted about Michael’s fighting ability, Gibbs focused fully on DiNozzo, as if he could transfer his strengths and thoughts to mesh with DiNozzo’s own, joining with him in his battle with Michael.

DiNozzo glanced back toward Gibbs as he spoke with Michael. His eyes fell onto McGee, who had yet to look up or indicate he knew they were there. “Looks like you have some drinking to finish,” he said. “Must we wait for you to drink up before the fight begins?”

“We can proceed whenever you would like,” Michael replied amicably. 

“Well, it might be more of a fight if McGee were down here, with me.”

“That is not going to happen. You think The General would allow you to fight with his courtesan? Especially since Timothy yearns to be free? Wants to return to Scotland with you? I think not. It would be too easy, no? You will fight with me.”

“You?”

“Yes, Anthony DiNozzo, Junior. We will see what skills you have.”

“What are the rules?”

“No rules. When one opponent gives up the fight, when he is pinned down, unable to move and gasping for breath, when he concedes the fight, he is declared the loser. I think I will enjoy winning you for The General. He is often generous with his rewards.”

Moving closer, DiNozzo took a chance, his voice low. “We’re here with a friend of yours, Ziva. She is here to help us.”

Michael chuckled. “And you think this makes a difference? I am sworn to do my duty to The General.”

“As soon as you’re done with your drink, Michael, I’m going to have to take you down,” challenged DiNozzo.

Michael laughed easily. “Good luck with that.”

Stepping forward, DiNozzo showed he had no fear. He nodded to Gibbs and took a deep breath as he waited for Michael. A brief moment of distraction pulled his eyes away.

Michael used the moment to toss the remains of his drink in DiNozzo’s face and drop his goblet as he kicked out, throwing DiNozzo off balance. DiNozzo staggered back, then rushed forward, wrapping both arms around Michael’s waist, pushing his shoulder hard into Michael’s stomach, intent on dropping him to the ground.

Michael used the momentum to lift DiNozzo off the ground and throw him down heavily. Using his speed, DiNozzo rolled out of the way, before Michael was able to deliver a devastating blow. The crowd booed and hissed until DiNozzo turned back to Michael and began an assault of punches to his midsection.

The more violent the fighting, the greater the cheers and wagering became. Many guests rose to their feet and chose one of the competitors to favor and to root for. Money changed hands as slaves freely poured wine for the guests without pausing to take notice of the battling slaves at center stage.

Taking advantage of his strength, Michael bear hugged DiNozzo close, and squeezed as hard as he could in hopes of cracking DiNozzo’s ribs. After writhing free, DiNozzo took a deep breath, then began landing blows to Michael’s midsection. Michael delivered a knee to DiNozzo’s groin and tried again to trap him in a bear hug. 

DiNozzo dodged again, then came back strong, landing more punches. Michael maneuvered himself, grasping one of DiNozzo’s arms and twisting it sharply until it cracked, causing DiNozzo to struggle and groan. A moment later, Michael had DiNozzo in a headlock, choking off his airway.

The crowd grew loud with their shouts as DiNozzo fought until he turned red with his effort, yet Michael still had him held fast. DiNozzo’s eyes looked up at Gibbs as he struggled to gasp in what little air he could. 

His vision blurred as he began feeling lightheaded. It occurred to him most would concede the fight at this time, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let down Gibbs or McGee. Winning was his only option. 

Twisting a bit in the hold, he found the strength and room to deliver hard elbow blows to Michael’s gut. He kept at it, writhing against Michael’s grasp until he pulled Michael off balance. The pair fell to the side with a painful crash. DiNozzo scrambled away, finding himself at the edge of the open area, at one of the guests feet. The guest kicked at him, forcing him back toward his opponent.

When he focused on Michael again, he watched his opponent rise from the ground, his side seeping blood. DiNozzo wiped the sweat from his eyes and he panted heavily. Then their eyes met as Michael pulled bloodied chard from his side, then began charging at him like a frenzied bull, wounded and angry.

“Enough!” DiNozzo yelled. As he scrambled back, trying to keep distance between them.

Michael tightly held the sharp chard that had wounded him and ran toward DiNozzo, his arm raised high, aiming to pierce DiNozzo’s heart.

“Don’t do it. Don’t!” called DiNozzo as Michael lunged forward. DiNozzo searched for weapons and reached for a dagger sheathed in one of the guests’ belts. He shook his head, then ducked as he plunged the knife deep into Michael’s chest.

A daze fell over DiNozzo as several people rushed to Michael’s aid. Remaining on his knees, he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the bloody dagger still in his grasp. He looked at it briefly, then opened his hand, allowing the weapon to fall to the ground. His eyes turned to Gibbs who was already headed for him.

Ziva raced through the crowd, kneeling at Michael’s side. DiNozzo rose to his feet, grabbing at his wounded arm as he staggered toward Gibbs.

“Are you alright?” Gibbs asked as his hands settled on DiNozzo’s body. 

Dropping to the ground at Gibbs’ feet, DiNozzo reached for him. “Did I do it? Did I win McGee’s freedom?”

“Yes. You did perfect. Can you stand? Are you hurt?”

“Tired,” explained DiNozzo as he grabbed hold of Gibbs, using the leverage to scramble back to his feet.

They turned to see The General headed their way, leading McGee. As they met, he handed McGee’s leash to Gibbs, then grasped Gibbs’ shoulders. “It was a good fight. Can I make you an offer for DiNozzo? I can see what a fine asset he would be.”

“No,” Gibbs said firmly. 

Without another word, Gibbs nodded for DiNozzo to follow and led McGee on the leash. Vance met them at the edge of the courtyard, guiding them back to the entrance.

“Ziva, she was there with Michael,” Gibbs said when they hit the street.

“I will retrieve her,” Vance assured him. “You can take your boys and head back to Scotland. I will let Jenny know what happened.”

Gibbs surveyed both DiNozzo and McGee, then shook his head. “DiNozzo is hurt. He won’t make it far. And McGee looks drugged. Tim? Can you hear me?”

McGee slowly looked up, his eyes trying to focus. “Master?”

Gibbs pulled him into a hug. “We’re taking you home, McGee. We are going to get you home.” Turning back to Vance, he added, “I have to take them back to Jenny’s. They need to rest and heal before we can start back to Scotland.”

Vance nodded. “Good decision, Gibbs. No doubt you wouldn’t get far with them in the condition they are in. Wait here. I’ll get Ziva.”

“Can’t wait. I have to get them back and take care of them. I remember the way.”

“We will catch up,” promised Vance.


	12. Gibbs, DiNozzo and McGee head home to Scotland.

Not knowing much about The General, Gibbs suspected the man didn’t like to lose, especially not two slaves in one night at his own party. Gibbs considered the number of guards The General owned and knew he would be no match for them if The General decided to send out his troops to retrieve McGee from him.

Sticking to the darkest route, Gibbs wrapped one arm around DiNozzo and the other around McGee in hopes of hustling the slaves along as quickly and as quietly as possible. Grasping at his left arm, DiNozzo grimaced in pain as he struggled to stay on his feet.

“Are you going to make it?” asked Gibbs as he did his best to keep them moving.

“Yes. I can keep going,” promised DiNozzo.

Gibbs said nothing, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

“How’s McGee?” DiNozzo asked.

“Weak,” Gibbs replied.

As they spoke, McGee fell to the ground, scraping the heel of his palm on the brick road. Momentarily releasing DiNozzo, Gibbs leaned over, pulling McGee back onto his unsteady feet. “We need to get him back to Jenny’s place.”

“Take him. I can make it,” insisted DiNozzo.

“You don’t look much better.”

DiNozzo looked at Gibb in disbelief. “Really, Gibbs? I thought I was a bit handsomer than McGee. After all, he’s just a child.”

“I bet he’s done a bit of growing up in the last couple of years.”

“Yeah,” DiNozzo said softly. “He's almost as tall as me now.”

The trio hadn’t gone far before Vance caught up with them, his hand grasping Ziva’s wrist. Vance’s eyes fell across McGee and DiNozzo. “How are they?”

“They’re moving slow, but they will be fine as soon as we can get them some help. They need food, rest and their wounds tended to.”

Wrestling her wrist away from Vance’s grip, Ziva stepped close to Gibbs. “Michael is dead.”

Gibbs stood up straight and held his ground, protecting DiNozzo as he faced Ziva. “I kind of figured that.”

“DiNozzo killed him.”

“Yes, obviously.”

Hatred flashed in Ziva’s dark eyes. “He did not need to die.”

Still holding his injured arm, DiNozzo stepped around Gibbs. “I had no choice. I did what I had to do. It was kill or be killed. If I hadn’t taken him down, then he would have killed me. Perhaps you would have preferred it that way?”

Folding her arms before her chest, Ziva responded curtly. “Perhaps I would.”

“Why don’t you get this out. You want to take a punch? Take a swing? Get it out of your system. Go ahead. Do it!”

“Be careful with what you say. I only need one shot.”

“And that’s what is really bothering you. Not that Michael is dead, but that he got his ass kicked by a chump like me when he should have been able to take me down so easily.”

“You took advantage of him.”

“What was I supposed to do? He attacked me. He wouldn’t stop. I told him you were with us and he still wouldn’t stop. He was going to kill me.”

“That is his job as head of The General’s guards. He had more to lose than you.” Taking DiNozzo down quickly, Ziva pulled out a dagger, holding it to his throat. “He was already wounded and bloody from when you pushed him down.”

Gibbs moved forward, but Vance held him back. “Let them work this out.”

“He could have stayed down, but he kept coming at me,” said DiNozzo through clenched teeth.

“He had to keep going,” said Ziva, tears welling in her eyes. Placing the tip her knife’s blade against his thigh, she continued, “You could have stabbed him here, in the leg. You could have let him live.”

“He would not stop. I had no choice.”

Finally Vance stepped forward, lifting her to her feet. “It is done, Ziva. Michael did what he had to do and DiNozzo did what he had to do. Nothing will change what happened. It was his fate. Now it is time to serve your master and her guests. Go to Miss Jenny’s. Tell her what happened. These men need food and a place to rest. Go!”

Still glaring at DiNozzo, Ziva reached up to wipe a tear from her eye before she fled into the darkness.

Vance offered his hand to DiNozzo, helping him to his feet. “Don’t doubt yourself or what you did. Michael would have killed you if you didn’t submit.”

“I couldn’t do that. I would never let Gibbs down. Or McGee.”

Vance smiled and patted DiNozzo’s back. “I know. I can see it in your eyes. Loyalty. Gibbs is fortunate to have you.”

Gibbs heaved McGee across his shoulder, then turned back to Vance. “Help DiNozzo.”

“How’s the kid.”

“Out of it. Like he’s been drugged.”

“More likely, he hasn’t been allowed to sleep. The General likes to leave bruises on his slaves and deny them sleep, food or drink. He usually doesn’t do any permanent harm, but he does like to rule with a forceful hand.”

“Will he come after us?” asked Gibbs.

Remaining silent for a moment, Vance gave the question some thought. “He is usually an honorable man. DiNozzo won the fight fairly. The General tends to pay his debts without repercussions.”

“Good to know. But I still don’t trust him.”

“He is one of Rome’s most successful Generals. If he wishes to confront you, with force or merely an offer for one of your slaves, he certainly would do so. He knows how to organize his soldiers and slaves. He knows how to use tactics to win. If he wants to take you on, he will. However, I don’t think he would try to force you to part with either of these two. Be firm and stand your ground and he will respect that.”

“Every General I have ever met seemed determined to win at all costs.”

“Well, this one is retired. He likes to bet and although he tends to win more than he loses, I have never heard of him going after anyone he has lost a bet to. I’d wager you two would have butted heads on the battlefield, though.”

Faint traces in hues of blues and pinks ebbed across the sky as the group entered Jenny’s home. Jenny greeted them at the entrance way, an oil lamp in her hand to light the way.

“How are they doing?” she asked as she ran her fingers through McGee’s  
hair.

McGee never stirred.

“He’s out. DiNozzo’s hurt. It’s his arm,” Gibbs answered.

“It’s a shame Ducky isn’t here.”

“Yeah, Jen, he would have been handy right about now. Do you have somewhere they can rest up?”

“Yes. I have a room for guests. It’s out back where you won’t be disturbed during business hours.”

“Do you know someone who can look at DiNozzo’s arm?”

“I might.” Turning sharply, Jenny took off at a brisk walk, knowing Gibbs would keep up.

After maneuvering through the mazelike hallways and rooms of the main house, Jenny led them over a raised bridge. Near the far end, there was a branch forking off of the bridge, leading downward. Jenny stopped, leaning her palm on the bridge’s railing. 

“The guest quarters are down there,” she said, indicating the lower level. “These are my quarters,” she continued, indicating the upper level. “You are welcome to stay up here with me, Jethro.” Moving closer, she looked into his eyes and lay her free hand on his arm.

Gibbs shook her hand loose. “Not going to happen, Jen,” he said as he started down the steps leading to the lower level, McGee still over his shoulder. “Send the doctor, Jen,” he reminded her.

“Already taken care of,” she answered before turning to Vance. “I had the girls get the room ready. There are lamps, snacks and wine in the room. And a doctor. Please make our guests comfortable.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

With an arm around DiNozzo, Vance moved downward slowly, allowing DiNozzo to set the pace. He was clearly in pain and growing weary. Within minutes, Vance helped him through the doorway to the guest room and led him to the only bed in the suite. A doctor was already examining McGee.

“I see a few bruises, but no extensive physical damage. As he is unconscious, it is difficult to say whether he is suffering from an over abundance of wine or a lack of sleep. He appears well fed.”

Gibbs listened to the doctor’s comments, but his eyes never left McGee as he absorbed the words. After a minute, he nodded toward DiNozzo. “His arm was injured in a fight.”

The doctor made his way to the other side of the bed and began examining DiNozzo’s arm. Vance poured two chalices full of wine and handed one to Gibbs. “They’re safe here.”

“Are they?” Gibbs asked as he took a drink.

Vance laid his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. “Yes, they are. I promise you that.”

The doctor set about splinting DiNozzo’s arm. “It is not a complete break, only a fracture. He is young and strong. It will take time to heal. With complete rest, perhaps four weeks. Miss Jenny said you were anxious to return to Scotland. If he is traveling, this will still heal, but may take longer. He will need to keep it splinted and move it as little as possible. If he keeps the splint on until you are back to Scotland, it will surely be healed by then.”

“My neighbor is a doctor as well. He can look at it once we’re back home.”

“It is minor. There should be no complications with the healing as long as he does not get into any more fights or battles in the time before it heals.”

Gibbs sighed. He knew DiNozzo liked to help out and stay active. “Thank you, doctor. I will watch over him and make sure he allows it to heal. How much do I owe you?”

Raising his hand, the doctor chuckled. “Nothing my friend. Miss Jenny has already taken care of everything for you. She is a wonderful woman and a gracious hostess to her guests.”

“I am sure she is. Thank you.”

“I will show you out, Doctor,” Vance offered. “Gibbs, if you need anything, let me know. I will check back with you in a few hours.”

Gibbs managed a nod and a smile, then went to DiNozzo’s side, cupping his chin. “Get some sleep, Tony.”

Restlessness stirred Gibbs’ feet and his thoughts. Leaving his charges behind, he went outside and climbed the steps up to the bridge crossing from the main house to Jenny’s quarters and the guestroom below. The sun was brightening the day as he stood alone, watching over the gardeners sculpting and watering plants below and fishing wayward leaves from the ponds and fountains.

He had plans to make. How long to stay and when to leave. Scotland called to his heart, but he didn’t want to push DiNozzo and McGee into the long journey too soon. 

A couple hours later, he saw servants bringing fresh food from the main house and he followed them back to the guestroom to find DiNozzo awake and McGee curled up into a ball in the corner of the room.

Gibbs quickly surveyed the room, then asked, “What is he doing over there?” 

Still holding his injured arm, DiNozzo shrugged. “I tried to carry him back, but couldn’t manage with one arm. He said he wasn’t allowed.”

“Wasn’t allowed to what?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t come back to the bed though.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“My arm still hurts. It’s difficult to get comfortable with these splints he put on.”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt,” admitted Gibbs, as he settled his hand on DiNozzo’s injured arm.

“It isn’t anyone’s fault,” DiNozzo insisted. “Well, maybe Rivken’s, but, as my father always said, you can blame a dead man all you want, but you won’t get much recompense from his corpse.”

“Hrumph.”

Gibbs’ growl brought a smile to DiNozzo’s face. “I see you’re not missing my father any more than I am.”

“You could say that. You should eat.” 

DiNozzo watched as Gibbs picked through the foods that the servants had brought over. “Smells good,” he ventured.

Gibbs brought a tray over and set it on the bed next to DiNozzo. First he picked up a piece of grilled lamb, bringing it to DiNozzo’s lips. “Open.”

Fixing his eyes onto Gibbs’, DiNozzo did as he was ordered. After Gibbs placed the lamb in his mouth, DiNozzo made a point to lick Gibbs’ fingertips as they were drawn away. Both men smiled.

When the food was gone, Gibbs settled next to DiNozzo, facing him and leaning forward until their lips met. “I don’t know what I would have done if Rivken had killed you,” Gibbs whispered against DiNozzo’s neck just before nibbling at the skin.

“I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t let you down.”

Gibbs pressed his palm against DiNozzo’s chin, turning it to the perfect angle before claiming those perfect lips again.

DiNozzo felt his heart beginning to race. “Jethro,” he murmured, “you can take me.”

“You’re hurt,” came the reply between kisses.

“I want you to,” said DiNozzo, writhing on the bed in an attempt to get closer.

Vance walked in without knocking, but took the scene in stride. “I’m sure Miss Jenny would gladly loan you a slave with two arms. If that’s what you would like.”

Locking his eyes onto DiNozzo’s, Gibbs replied, “No thanks, I have exactly what I want right here.”

“Making the kid sleep on the floor? I could bring over some extra bedding for him,” Vance offered.

After untangling himself from DiNozzo, Gibbs stood up and straightened his clothing, then ran his fingers through his hair. “That was his own idea.”

“Really,” said Vance, unconvinced. “Did he eat anything?”

DiNozzo struggled to sit himself upright. “He hasn’t really woken up. Just long enough to mumble something about not being allowed, then he walked to the corner, curled up and went right back to sleep. I tried to get him back to bed, but he kept mumbling that he wasn’t allowed.”

Vance walked over to McGee, kneeling down as he shook the boy’s shoulder. “Who knows? Maybe he wasn’t allowed to sleep in a bed or maybe just not allowed to be in bed with anyone other than The General. That’s all over with, time for him to move on. McGee! Time to get up! Timothy, now!”

With the realm of sleep still holding his thoughts, McGee stirred, then blinked his eyes open. “Master?”

“McGee, are you awake?”

“Yes, Master,” he replied as he struggled with his awakening limbs. With a series of uncoordinated movements, McGee made it to his feet. Surveying the room, he allowed his eyes to focus. “Where am I?”

Gibbs placed his hands on McGee’s shoulders. “Timothy!” he said. “You are coming home with us. You are safe now.”

“Home?” McGee’s expression was blank as he tried to put together the pieces.

“Home, McGee. Scotland.”

The final word clicked in McGee’s head and suddenly his eyes seemed to focus on the man before him. “Home? Gibbs? I’m going home?” 

Gibbs smiled broadly, allowing McGee’s head to snuggle against his neck as he drew the boy into a hug. “We’ve been looking for you since we found out you were taken. I would never give up on you. Never.”

“Tell me this is not a dream.”

“It is not a dream. We are taking you home to Scotland. I promise.”

Tears began to well in McGee’s eyes.

Gibbs spent the next few days watching over DiNozzo’s arm and McGee’s fading bruises. He pushed them both to eat and to sleep as much as they could in preparation for the journey home.

It wasn’t long before he grew too restless to stay. Vance and Jenny both checked on them daily. Once Jenny caught sight of Gibbs standing on the bridge, she ordered one of her slaves to wake her to let her know whenever he was there alone.

She wore little as she approached him. Gibbs leaned slightly, his hands clasped, elbows bent and his arms settled onto the brick side rail of the bridge. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“But McGee and DiNozzo, are they well enough to travel?”

Gibbs finally looked up. “I appreciate all of your hospitality, Jen, but it’s time we start home. Once the rainy season comes, the roads will be much more difficult, harder to navigate. McGee is fine and DiNozzo can walk with one arm in a sling. I will carry his gear until he is able.”

“You should stay.”

“I need to get McGee home to his mother and sister. DiNozzo’s arm won’t heal any faster here than on the road. There is no reason to delay our departure.”

Jen smiled. She knew Gibbs was like a rock in his determination. Once he had his mind made up, she knew she wouldn’t be able to talk him into changing his plans. “There is no need for you to walk. I have horses.”

“I can’t take horses from you. I don’t have that kind of money.”

Jenny placed her hand gently on his forearm. “You would be doing me a favor. Really, Jethro. These horses are old. I have no pastureland to retire them to and it costs plenty to keep them at the stable. They’re old, beyond their useful service. I was going to send them to auction, but most likely they’d only be purchased as lion food. Give them a second chance. Take them. Please.”

Gibbs thought about it for a few moments. Horses would get them home even faster. He would be a fool to refuse the offer. And Gibbs was no fool. “Thank you, Jen.”

The next morning, Vance had four horses waiting in front of Jenny’s home. Gibbs walked between them, running his hand across their chests and legs. “These horses are still in their prime. Why would Jenny say they were old and useless?”

Vance chuckled and glanced back to the main house. “She said you are not to disturb her this morning. She needs her sleep.”

“She bought them yesterday, didn’t she? You were gone all afternoon, Vance.”

“Take them. They’re a gift. A gift you can well use. The pack horse has bedding and food.”

Gibbs shook his head as he smiled. Few people could get one over on him. “Tell her thank you. I’ll give her old horses a good home.”

Six miles outside of Rome, Gibbs slowed his small group, then stopped. His eyes focused on several horseman a short distance ahead of them. “It looks like a battle,” he said. “One we certainly don’t want to get involved in.”

DiNozzo urged his horse forward. His eyes scanned the horizon as McGee pulled along side of him. “I don’t think it’s a real battle,” DiNozzo said softly. “It looks like a reenactment.”

“A what?” asked Gibbs.

“Reenactment,” repeated DiNozzo. “Some of the men who are older and retired from war, or never went into battle themselves, they want to experience it. They hear tales of great battles. Watching bloodshed in the arenas doesn’t satisfy their needs to meet another on the battlefield, adrenaline pumping, the sounds of battle cries and weapons crashing together. My father was really into it.”

“Are you certain?”

DiNozzo nodded, a nudge of his heels pushed his horse forward. “Yes, I am quite certain.”

Gibbs gave his horse a long rein, allowing him to catch up to DiNozzo. McGee was soon trotting up behind them, eyes wide open, staring at the seeming mayhem on the field. “How do they fight without hurting each other?”

“Wooden swords. The men are supposed to be honorable. If they are hit in a kill zone or knocked from their horse, they should drop out until the next round.”

“Did you participate with your father?”

Through clenched teeth, DiNozzo answered, “Not exactly. Do you know what little Anthony DiNozzo Junior was doing while Senior was playing with his sword? Do you, McGee?”

“No, what?” 

“I got to carry around a bucket throughout the field. They would call me over when they needed to relieve themselves. They called me their little poo-boy.”

“Nice.” McGee grinned widely as he watched horses charging and swords clashing.

The group moved down the road, slowing to a walk. Gibbs kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, while DiNozzo and McGee rode on unconcerned. They had moved passed the majority of the mock battlefield when a rider on a bay horse cantered over to them.

“Junior, what on earth has happened to your arm?” asked Senior.

DiNozzo nudged his horse, not letting it stop. “Got into a little fight. It will heal. Nothing for you to lose any sleep over.”

Senior reached over grabbing the reins of DiNozzo’s horse, stopping him abruptly as several of his friends rode up, surrounding the small group. “What is your hurry, Junior?”

“We’re going home.”

Senior gripped the reins of his son’s horse tightly and smiled. “Rome is your home, Anthony.”

Reining his horse over, Gibbs attempted to intervene. “We’re heading for Scotland,” he said firmly.

Looking up, Senior smiled broadly. “Then have a nice trip. The two of you. Junior will stay here where he belongs.”

Senior’s friends moved in closer, purposely trying to separate the smaller group. Gibbs drew his sword as he reined his horse back toward DiNozzo. “He belongs with me! Tony, go!”

DiNozzo winced as his horse reared. It was enough for his father to drop the reins as he had to control his own mount. McGee grabbed the lead to the packhorse, which Gibbs had dropped, and headed down the road. He hadn’t made it far when another horseman blocked his way, forcing him to stop.

“Timothy.”

McGee swallowed hard. “General. Yes, General.”

“Where are you off to?”

“We are going back to Scotland. Back to my family farm.”

“And what do you know of this ruckus that is disturbing our battle?”

Craning his neck around, McGee looked back. “DiNozzo’s father grabbed him. I don’t know why.”

“Senator DiNozzo?”

“Yes, General. I think he wants DiNozzo to stay in Rome instead of going back to Scotland with us.”

“His son is a slave. He has no say. You stay here, Timothy.”

“Yes, General. I will stay right here and await your return.” He watched as the General and a handful of other men rode back toward the melee. 

The General’s horse was the same one that he had ridden in his last battles and was not afraid to boldly push through the other horses and men. The General reined him through the group until he found the two men at the center. “Cease this disturbance now!” he commanded loudly.

The men who rode with The General assisted in settling the others down. The General himself rode between Senior and Gibbs. “Senator DiNozzo, by what reason have you caused such a disarray of our battle?”

“My apologies, General, this is a personal matter.”

“Gibbs, I see you are heading homeward with your slaves.”

“Aye. That I was.”

“Then what is this matter between you? Do you owe the Senator money?”

“No. I do not.”

“Senator?”

Again Senior flashed a broad smile. “It is nothing that concerns you, General.”

“You are wrong there, Senator. You have disturbed the entire battlefield. Everyone has lost their place and is now focused on you. What is your claim with Gibbs? Why will you not let him pass?”

“He has my son.”

“This I know. And as a slave, your son must go with his rightful owner. To wherever his owner commands him to go.”

“He is a slave no longer. He is my son. He has familial duties to fulfill. He is to stay in Rome until I say otherwise.”

The General looked from Senior to Gibbs, then over to DiNozzo. “Young man, come here.” He nodded to the others to allow DiNozzo to pass. “Slave, who is your rightful owner?”

“Gibbs,” he blurted out without hesitation. “He paid money for me to a trader.”

“He set you free!” yelled Senior.

“Are you free?” The General asked pointedly.

DiNozzo met his father’s glare. Then answered slowly and clearly, loud enough for the group to hear. “It is true that Gibbs bought me to pack and carry his gear on a previous visit and offered me my freedom before he set sail back to Scotland. He gave me a choice and I chose to remain his slave. I rode that ship in the cargo hold as a slave. I have lived in his house and worked his land as a slave. As his slave, I rode with him on this journey to find Timothy McGee and return him to his family, his mother and sister, so he may provide for them. As his slave, I fought for McGee. I would have given my life for him, as his slave. In my heart, I belong to Gibbs.”

“This man is marked as a slave. He belongs to Gibbs. The bond between them is clear. Any man but a fool can see it. And I do not consort with fools. Gibbs, you and your slaves are free to go. Any man who fights you, will fight against my men and myself.”

“Why?” Gibbs asked.

“Because it is the right thing to do.”

The General rode at Gibbs’ side until they met McGee down the road. There he smiled and took McGee’s hand into his own, pressing a few coins to McGee’s palm. “Timothy, you served me well as a slave. Gibbs tells me you are to be a free man, a farmer, providing for your mother and sister. This is honorable. It is not right for a freed man to have an empty purse. You may find these few coins useful to buy seed for your crops. I wish you well.”

McGee glanced at the coins in his hand, then looked back at the General’s form riding back toward the field. “Thank you, General,” he called.

Without looking back, The General kicked his horse into a canter and held up one hand to acknowledge McGee.

Days and weeks passed as the trio rode as hard as they dared. When they did stop, Gibbs hunted and DiNozzo rested while McGee did his best to cook their food. It wasn’t as tasty as DiNozzo’s cooking or even his own mother’s, but it satisfied their hunger and gave them the energy to continue their journey.

They rode by Gibbs’ farm to see Ducky. Even at a distance, McGee could see Abby’s long black hair. 

“It’s Abby!” he hollered as he galloped toward her. “Abby! Abby!”

Gibbs smiled and reached out for the reins of DiNozzo’s horse. “We’re home,” he said.

DiNozzo smiled. “Not quite. We rode right by your farm.”

“Well, I can’t wait any longer.” Shortening up the reins, Gibbs leaned over, one hand on DiNozzo’s neck to steady him as their lips met. “Something you said. Something The General could see. We are bonded together. No matter where we are, no matter where we travel, in our hearts we know we belong to each other.”

“Nothing will ever change that,” promised DiNozzo as he leaned into Gibbs’ kiss.

 

~END~  
09/06/11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story may contain brief passages of dialog or scenarios from NCIS, which are not original, but used to bring my story in line with the television series it is based on. I am not a writer for the series and thusly am not claiming such lines or scenarios to be my own original work. If you remember lines from the series, please consider them to be cited as being from the series.


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